"Therein you do rightly, Madam," said the Doctor; "but I am persuaded
you will hear from her yet."

It came at length, the hour of utterance. And one day, in a praying
circle of the women of the church, all were startled by the clear silver
tones of one who sat among them and spoke with the unconscious
simplicity of an angel child, calling God her Father, and speaking of an
ineffable union in Christ, binding all things together in one, and
making all complete in Him. She spoke of a love passing
knowledge,--passing all love of lovers or of mothers,--a love forever
spending, yet never spent,--a love ever pierced and bleeding, yet ever
constant and triumphant, rejoicing with infinite joy to bear in its own
body the sins and sorrows of a universe,--conquering, victorious love,
rejoicing to endure, panting to give, and offering its whole self with
an infinite joyfulness for our salvation. And when, kneeling, she
poured out her soul in prayer, her words seemed so many winged angels,
musical with unearthly harpings of an untold blessedness. They who heard
her had the sensation of rising in the air, of feeling a celestial light
and warmth, descending into their souls; and when, rising, she stood
silent and with downcast drooping eyelids, there were tears in all eyes,
and a hush in all movements as she passed, as if something celestial
were passing out.

Miss Prissy came rushing homeward, to hold a private congratulatory talk
with the Doctor and Mrs. Scudder, while Mary was tranquilly setting the
tea-table and cutting bread for supper.

"To see her now, certainly," said Miss Prissy, "moving round so
thoughtful, not forgetting anything, and doing everything so calm, you
wouldn't 'a' thought it could be her that spoke those blessed words and