entreat Him once more, for He can yet raise our brother."
"Nay, our brother did say, 'Entreat Him not,' " said Mary.
"Nevertheless, I will go and meet Him," retorted Martha, averse, as always, to anything that savoured of dictation. "Wilt not come too?"
Nay, I will sit and wait here for the Lord," said Mary, "or, maybe, I will carry flowers and spices to our brother's grave."
Then Martha rose, and with pale face, and eyes darkened and hollowed with weeping, stepped out amidst the grey shadows of early dawn to meet the Lord. She found Him surrounded by His little band of disciples, as ever the central figure, and on His face there was a look that Martha had never seen before. It expressed anguish, and, at the same time, a measure of exultation. His visage shone with a radiancy not wholly to be accounted for by the reflection of the rising sun, that was struggling feebly through the olive groves. With deepest sympathy and love He turned to Martha, and she, at sight of her Lord, strengthened and revived in faith, and realising all she had suffered by His absence, sank weary and humble and abased (as Martha seldom was) at His feet, and cried out in bitterness of soul: "Lord, if Thou hadst been here, my brother had not died."
Peter, incensed at her reproach, exclaimed: "Who art thou, woman, that thy brother should live when all men die?"
But she, heedless of the warning words of Mary, heedless of the angry looks of the disciples, and with
