Dinsmore addressed a few closing words to them in the same
strain.
They fell into Gracie's heart as seed sown in good ground. When the
reading had come to an end and she felt herself unobserved, she slipped
quietly away to her mamma's dressing-room, where she was not likely to be
disturbed, and sat down to think more profoundly and seriously than ever
before in her short life.
She went over "the old, old story," and tears stole down her cheeks as
she whispered to herself, "And it was for me He died that dreadful death;
for me just as truly as if it hadn't been for anybody else; and yet I've
lived all this long while without loving Him, or trying to do right for
the sake of pleasing Him.
"And how often I've been invited to come! Papa has told me about it over
and over again; mamma too, and Grandma Elsie; and I haven't minded what
they said at all. Oh, how patient and kind Jesus has been to wait so long
for me to come! And He is still waiting and inviting me to come; just as
kindly and lovingly as if it was the very first time, and I hadn't been
turning away from Him.
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