hen did that happen?"

"Last week."

"Has he become religious?"

"Well I think Joe's trying to do the best he can. He said last night in
meeting that he felt like a new man, and if they didn't believe he had
religion to ask his wife."

"And suppose they had asked you, what would you have said?"

"I would have said I believe Joe's a changed man, and I hope he will
hold out faithful. And Miss Belle I want to be a Christian, but there
are some things about religion I can't understand. People often used to
talk to me about getting religion, and getting ready to die. Religion
somehow got associated in my mind with sorrow and death, but it seems to
me since I have known you and Mr. Clifford the thing looks different. I
got it associated with something else besides the pall, the hearse, and
weeping mourners. You have made me feel that it is as beautiful and
valuable for life as it is necessary for death. And yet there are some
things I can't understand. Miss Belle will you be shocked if I tell you
something which has often puzzled me?"

"I don't know, I hope you have nothing very shocking to tell me."

"Well perhaps it is, and maybe I had better not say it."

"But you have raised my curiosity, and woman like I want to hear it."

"Now don't be shocked, but let me ask you, if you really believe that
God is good?"

"Yes I do, and to doubt it would be to unmoor my soul from love, from
peace, and rest. It seems to me to believe that must be the first
resting place for my soul, and I feel that with me

"To doubt would be disloyalty
To falter would be sin.

"But my dear I have been puzzled just as you have, and can say,----

"I have wandered in mazes dark and distressing
I've had not a cheering ray my spirit to bless,
Cheerless unbelief held my laboring soul in grief."

"And what then?"

"I then turned to the Gospel that taught me to pray
And trust in the living word from folly away.

"And it was here my spirit found a resting place, and I feel that in
believing I have entered into rest."

"Ah!" said Mary to herself when Belle was gone, "there is something so
restful and yet inspiring in her words. I wish I had her faith."

Chapter XVII

"I am sorry, very sorry," said Belle Gordon, as a shadow of deep
distress flitted over her pale sad face. She was usually cheerful and
serene in her manner; but now it seemed as if the very depths of her
soul had been stirred by some mournful and bitter mem