“You are thinking of the wonderful plan of the world,” he said,—­“Of all the fair and glorious things God has made for those who love Him!  Of the splendour of Faith and Hope and Courage,—­of the soul’s divine origin and responsibility,—­and all the joy of being able to say to the Creator of the whole universe, ‘Our Father!’ You are thinking—­because you know—­that not a note of the music you are playing now fails to reach the eternal spheres,—­echoing away from your touch, it goes straight to its mark,—­sent with the soul’s expression of love and gratitude, it flies to the centre of the soul’s worship.  Not a pulsation of true harmony is lost!  You are thinking how grand it is to live a sweet and unsullied life, full of prayer and endeavour, keeping a spirit white and clean as the light itself, a spirit dwelling on the verge of earth but always ready to fly heavenward!—­You are thinking that no earthly reward, no earthly love, no earthly happiness, though good in itself, can ever give you such perfect peace and joy as is found in loving, serving, and obeying God, and suffering His will to be entirely worked in you!”

Angela listened, deeply moved—­her heart throbbed quickly,—­how wonderfully the boy expressed himself!—­with what sweetness, gentleness, and persuasion!  She would have ceased playing, but that something imperative urged her to go on,—­and Manuel’s soft voice thrilled her strangely when he spoke again, saying—­

“You know now—­because your wise men are beginning to prove it—­that you can in very truth send a message to heaven.”

“To heaven!” murmured Angela, “That is a long way!  We know we can send messages in a flash of lightfrom one part of the world to another—­but then there must be people to receive them—­”

“And heaven is composed of millions of worlds,” said Manuel, “’In my Father’s house are many mansions!” And from all worlds to all worlds—­from mansion to mansion, the messages flash!  And there are those who receive them, with such directness as can admit of no error!  And your wise men might have known this long ago if they had believed their Master’s word, ’Whatsoever is whispered in secret shall be proclaimed on the housetops.’  But you will all find out soon that it is true, and that everything you say, and that every prayer you utter God hears.”

“My mother is in heaven,” said Angela wistfully, “I wish I could send her a message!”

“Your very wish has reached her now!” said Manuel, “How is it possible that you in the spirit could ardently wish to communicate with one so beloved and she not know it!  Love would be no use then, and there would be a grave flaw in God’s perfect creation.”

Angela ceased playing, and turned round to face the young speaker.

“Then you think we never lose those we love?  And that they see us and hear us always?”

“They must do so,” said Manuel, “otherwise there would be cruelty in creating the grace of love at all.  But God Himself is Love.  Those who love truly can never be parted,—­death has no power over their souls.  If one is on earth and one in heaven, what does it matter?  If they were in separate countries of the world they could hear news of each other from time to time,—­and so they can when apparent death has divided them.”