“Well, I don’t exactly know,” said David, looking perplexed himself. “Never was like that, so far as I know. Leastwise—No, I couldn’t just say I ever have been.”
“O happy man! Some Christians are, sometimes, I suppose?”
“I should think so. I don’t know.”
“What wouldst thou do, then, if thou wert in a slough from which thou sawest not the way out?”
“Why, I think—I should pray the Lord to show me the way out. I don’t see what else I could do.”
“And if no answer came?”
“Then I should be a bit afraid it meant that I’d walked in myself, and hadn’t heeded His warnings. Sometimes, I think, when folks do that, He leaves them to flounder awhile before He helps them out.”
“That won’t do this time.”
“Well, if that’s not it, then maybe it would be because I wanted to get out on my own side, and wouldn’t see His hand held out on the other. The Lord helps you out in His way, not yours: and that often means, up the steeper-looking bank of the two.”
Countess was silent. David applied himself to bending the pin of a brooch, which he thought rather too straight.