athe
ourselves. It is all there, just as live as it ever was; it is given
over again every time we go for it; when we find it so, we never
need trouble any more about authority. We shall only thank God that
He has kept in the world the records of his talk with men; and the
more we talk with Him ourselves, the deeper we shall understand
their speech."

"Isn't all that about 'inner meanings,'--that words in the Bible
stand for,--Swedenborgian, Miss Kirkbright?"

"Well?" Miss Kirkbright smiled.

"Are you a Swedenborgian?" Sylvie asked the question timidly.

"I believe in the New Church," answered Miss Euphrasia. "But I don't
believe in it as standing apart, locked up in a system. I believe in
it as a leaven of all the churches; a life and soul that is coming
into them. I think a separate body is a mistake; though I like to
worship with the little family with which I find myself most kin. We
should do that without any name. The Lord gave a great deal to
Swedenborg: but when his time comes, He doesn't give all in any one
place, or to any one soul; his coming is as the lightening from the
one part to the other part under heaven. _Lightening_--not
lightning; it is wrongly printed so, I think. He set the sun in the
sky, once and forever, when He came in his Christ; since then, day
after day dawns, everywhere, and uttereth speech; and even night
after night showeth knowledge. I believe in the fuller, more inward
dispensation. Swedenborg illustrated it,--received it, wonderfully;
but many are receiving the same at this hour, without ever having
heard of Swedenborg. For that reason, we may never be afraid about
the truth. It is not here or there. This or that may fail or pass
away, but the Word shall never pass away."

"What a long talk we have had! How did we get into it?"

The car was coming up the slope, half a mile off. They could see the
red top of it rising, and could hear the tinkle of the bell.

"I wish we didn't need to get out!" said Sylvie. "I wish I could
tell it to my mother!"

"Can't you?"

"I'm afraid it wouldn't keep alive,--with me," Sylvie answered, with
a little sigh and shadow. "Not even as these flowers will that I am
taking to her. I can take,--but I can't give, and I always feel so
that I ought to. Mother needs the comfort of it. Why don't you come
and talk to her, Miss Kirkbright?"

"Talk on purpose never does. You and I 'got into it,' as you say.
Perhaps your mother and I might. But I have go