"He looked as if he was dead, but as if he was mad too--his body as if
it was dead, and himself wild and mad and burning inside of it." She was
crouching on the floor, shaken with the sobs of a new and overwhelming
pity. "O Bart! I never cared--cared anything for him before--except to
have him comfortable and decent; but if I thought he was going to
be--like that--now I think I would die to save him if I could."

"Would you die to save him? So would God; and you can't believe in God
at all unless you know that He does what He wants to do. And God does
it; dies in him, and is in him now; and He will save him."

Bart's eyes were full of peace.

"Can't you trust God, Ann? When He is suffering so much for love of each
of us? He could make us into good machines, but He won't. Can't you
begin to do what He is doing for yourself and other people? Ann, if He
suffers in your father and in you, He is glad when you are glad. Try to
be glad always in His love and in the glory of it."

Ann's mind had reverted again to the traditions of which she knew so
little. "I don't want to go to heaven," she said, "if father is in some
place looking like he did just now."

"Heaven" (Bart repeated the word curiously), "heaven is inside you when
you grow to be like God; and through all ages and worlds heaven will be
to do as He does, to suffer with those that are suffering, and to die
with those that are dying. But remember, Ann, too, it means to rejoice
with those who are rejoicing; and joy is greater than pain and
heaviness. And heaven means always to be in peace and strength and
delight, because it is along the line of God's will where His joy