"Whom the Lord loveth he chasteneth," I faltered out, for her sorrow filled me with a respect that was new. "Yes," she returned, as gently as hopelessly; "and whom he does not love as well." "You have no ground for saying so," I answered. "The apostle does not." "My lamp is gone out," she said; "gone out in darkness, utter darkness. You warned me, and I did not heed the warning. I thought I knew better, but I was full of self-conceit. And now I am wandering where there is no way and no light. My iniquities have found me out." I did not say what I thought I saw plain enough,--that her lamp was just beginning to burn. Neither did I try to persuade her that her iniquities were small. "But the Bridegroom," I said, "is not yet come. There is time to go and get some oil." "Where am I to get it?" she returned, in a tone of despair. "From the Bridegroom himself," I said. "No," she answered. "I have talked and talked and talked, and you know he says he abhors talkers. I am one of those to whom he will say 'I know you not.'" "And you will answer him that you have eaten and drunk in his presence, and cast out devils, and--?" "No, no: I will say he is right; that it is all my own fault; that I thought I was something when I was nothing, but that I know better now." A dreadful fit of coughing interrupted her. As soon as it was over, I said,-- "And what will the Lord say to you, do you think, when you have said so to him?" "Depart from me," she answered in a hollow, forced voice. "No," I returned. "He will say, 'I know you well. You have told me the truth. Come in.'" "_Do_ you think so?" she cried. "You never used to think well of me." "Those who were turned away," I said, avoiding her last words, "were trying to make themselves out better than they were: they trusted, not in the love of Christ, but in what they thought their worth and social standing. Perhaps, if their deeds had been as good as they thought them, they would have known better than to trust in them. If they had told him the truth; if they had said, 'Lord, we are workers of iniquity; Lord, we used to be hypocrites, but we speak the truth now: forgive us,'--do you think he would then have turned them away? No, surely. If your lamp has gone out, make haste and tell him how careless you have been; tell him all, and pray him for oil and light; and see whether your lamp will not straightway glimmer,--glimmer first and then glow."