The Heart's Kingdom

"Oh, I'm thankful, thankful that strength has been given me to endure it

all--life," I said to myself, almost under my breath. "And no matter

what comes I can never lose it. I can go out into life now alone

and--unafraid."

"'And whither thou goest I too will go, and thy--'" came the Gregorian

chant from close beside me, and I turned to find the Harpeth Jaguar

stalking me in the night.

Then for a long time we stood and looked at each other, he tearing away

the veil from his man's heart and I laying aside that in my woman's

breast.

"Oh, I've needed you so," I finally said, with a catch in my breath as I

put my hands in his which he put palm to palm, then raised to his lips.

"You were in God's hands and I had to wait His time," he answered me.

"And I would have waited until the stars burn dim. As near as loss came

I never doubted. I had asked Him for you."

"I didn't know I was going to join your church this morning," I

faltered. "I never intended to join your church. I was going to be

either a Baptist or a Presbyterian. I was afraid to mix--my faith

with--with you."

"Hasn't it been tried sufficiently to stand any test? I think so. Ah,

dear, come to me--it's been long for me, too." His arms entreated me,

but I held myself away with my praying hands pressed to his breast.

"Are you sure that I'm not mixing you and--your faith?" I asked, looking

him honestly in the face and giving voice to the thought that Nickols

had put into my mind and which had tortured me all the weary months

past.

"Did any thought of me make you bring Martha Ensley to Nickols' death

bed and take into your heart and home what the world calls dishonor?"

"No," I answered with honesty to myself.

"Have you once since you knew--knew--felt that you must turn to me for

comfort and help in one of your dire hours?"

"Not once," I answered again with honesty.

"Have you not learned to turn to Him?"

"I have!" I answered.

"That's God's love. Then you can give me the love that belongs to me in

your heart's kingdom, can't you?"

"I'm afraid--I'm going to love you too much--I feel it coming. What'll

you do with it? Stop me!" I said with both a sob and a laugh, as I began

to let myself be drawn into the strong, hungry arms.

"You great, big, splendid woman of God! You've got love enough in you to

feed a multitude and you'll do it. Give me a part of my share now. It's

mine. God sent you to me; I'm going to take you."