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 time; he is my dear brother just the same, and when he is washed, it is as exactly as if there had never been any dirt there. Is that what you mean?"

"Precisely what I mean, dear. You do not love the dirt, but you know that it is really no part of your brother, that it is nothing when it is washed away, and you love your brother in spite of it, just as dearly as ever."

The little girl patted and smoothed a fold of the blue linen sleeve. At last she spoke in a very low voice:

"And do you love God, too?"

"More than all else."

There was a silence.