“I never thought I should want to stay here so much,” he said. “I was glad enough to get away last summer. I cannot forgive myself for being such a boor! Now I shall want to come again and again.”
“Well why not?” I returned.
“I am afraid you will become tired of me.”
“Try us and see. We are not easily wearied.”
“You are all so generous with yourselves.”
I smiled a little. “Why not give of your best?”
“True.” Then there was a silence. We reached the gate presently. “Do not go in just yet;” he pleaded, so we remained in the silvery light that was flooding the whole earth. Moonlight always stirs the tender and thoughtful side of one’s soul.
“I am glad that to-morrow will be Sunday. I can just think how I shall enjoy going to church and hearing your father preach.”
This from him who had despised religion and sneered at sermons. It did startle me.
“And to have Stephen here.”