you ought to see how ready God is to forgive."

He fairly started to his feet so vividly the truth came home to him,
illumined, as it was, by a recent and personal experience. After a moment, he
slowly sat down again and said, with a long breath, "That was a close shot,
Alida."

"I only wish you to have the trust and comfort which this truth should bring
you," she said. "It seems a pity you should do yourself needless injustice
when you are willing to do what is right and kind by others."

"It's all a terrible muddle, Alida. If God is so ready to forgive, how do you
account for all the evil and suffering in the world?"

"I don't account for it and can't. I'm only one of his little children; often
an erring one, too. You've been able to forgive grown people, your equals,
and strangers in a sense. Suppose you had a little boy that had done wrong,
but said he was sorry, would you hold a grudge against him?"

"The idea! I'd be a brute."

She laughed softly as she asked again, "don't you see?"

He sat looking thoughtfully away across the fields for a long time, and
finally asked, "Is your idea of becoming a Christian just being forgiven like
a child and then trying to do right?"

"Yes. Why not?"

"Well," he remarked, with a grim laugh. "I didn't expect to be cornered in