"Oh, learn ... I mean teach him, then," she said earnestly. "You are God's man and know everything about Him, Mr. Talmadge."
"Indeed I don't—far from it, and I imagine that your friend doesn't want to hear a sermon on the mount."
"I do," she cried, "there's lot of things I want to hear about, but I've always been afraid to ask you, till now."
Rather gruffly Donald added his word, "I hope that I am broad-minded enough not only to receive, but to welcome, any light on a subject which is, I imagine, the most vitally important one in life."
"Well, then, suppose we hold a little spiritual clinic for our Rose's benefit primarily, remembering that where two or three are gathered together in His name, God will be with them. And, after all, what time could be more fitting than this silent, holy night; what place more suitable than this great temple of the out-of-doors, for us simple children of His to seek understanding?"
CHAPTER X
"SMILES'" CONSECRATION
If, half an hour previous, Donald had been told that, during the first evening of his long anticipated visit to his forest of enchantment, he was to play the part of patient in a spiritual clinic, conducted by a wandering backwood preacher for the instruction of a seventeen-year-old mountain girl—as well as for his own enlightenment—he would have scoffed at the idea; yet, oddly enough, he felt no sense of displeasure or antagonism.