"Yes, I can understand that, but if we think of the Holy Spirit as 'He,' not 'it,' we shall better understand that He is a Person; not only an influence, but Someone we may speak to and love." "Does that make a difference?" asked Rose. "I am sure it does. We can pray to Him, if He is a Person—unseen, indeed, but very near and very real. When we pray to Him, the first effect I think that we shall find, will be that the little spark of love which we had to Jesus will brighten and glow." "Oh! Now I see!" smiled Jean, thinking of her dull fire. "And then as the Holy Spirit becomes more to us—more of a living reality—the spark of our love to Jesus will grow and glow, and at length burst into a bright flame, so that others will see in our faces a beam of His holy love and holy life!" "And we shall be warm and happy," sighed Jean, in a comfortable rested tone. "Well," said Oswald, hesitating a little, "that's too difficult a subject for me." "I don't think it is, when you think it over," said Aunt Ruth, looking up. "I heard a celebrated preacher once speak on this very subject. He pressed his hearers very earnestly to make a decision then and there; to say 'Yes' to the Holy Spirit, and let Him enter their hearts. In the solemn pause which ensued, the little girl next me seemed very earnest, but it was not till afterwards that I knew about the great transaction that had taken place in her life in that quiet church." "As we were sitting in the train going home, her hand lovingly within my arm, and her face close to my shoulder, I whispered, 'What answer did you give, darling?' And she squeezed my arm earnestly, as she whispered back, 'I said yes.'" "Since then, children, that girl has been a devoted servant of Christ, and has done much for Him." CHAPTER XXIII. TOM'S PERSUASIONS. "WE are going home to-morrow!" said Jean, with a sigh. "Auntie, are you not very sorry? Now, confess!" "Very sorry to leave this nice place, and the sea, but not to be going home." Tom, who was sitting on the grass at her feet, looked up suddenly. "Is our home going to be yours?" he asked, gently and earnestly. "I do not know, Tom!" "Have mother and father asked you? Don't answer if you'd rather not, auntie," he said, his cheeks burning, as he still looked in her face, "but mother is better and back again now, and she said in her letter this morning—" "It was not curiosity," apologised Rose, "but because we did so hope you might be able." Aunt Ruth's eyes filled. "It makes me very happy to think you want me," she said in a low tone; "but I have not been able to decide yet." "I am afraid I ought not to have asked," said Tom, earnestly; "but as Rose said, we were so hoping you would, as mother told us before we came away, she hoped it would be settled so—" Aunt Ruth did not gainsay it. She was looking earnestly at the quiet river and the golden trees, lighted up just now by the setting sun.