“Dost thou wish to be happy?”
“That’s none for the like of us. It’s only for rich folks, isn’t that,—folks as has all they wants, and a bit over.”
“No man has that,” said Father Thomas, “except the little children who sit at the feet of Jesus Christ. Become thou as a little child, and happiness shall come to seek thee.”
“Me a little child!” There was no merriment in the laugh which accompanied the words.
“Ay, even thou. For ‘if there be a new creature in Christ, old things pass away; behold, all things are made new.’ (Note. 3 Corinthians five 17, Vulgate version.) That is the very childhood, my daughter—to be made new. Will thou have it? It may be had for the asking, if it be asked of God by a true heart—that childhood of grace, which is meek, patient, gentle, loving, obedient, humble. For it is not thou that canst conquer Satan, but Christ in thee, that shall first conquer thee. Thou in Christ—this is safety: Christ in thee—here is strength. Seek, and thou shalt find. Farewell.”
And without giving Filomena time to answer, Father Thomas turned away, and was lost in a moment behind the bushes which separated the cottage from the smithy. She stood for a minute where he left her, as if she had been struck to stone. The whole style of his address was to her something completely new, and so unlike anything she had expected that for once in her life she was at a loss.
Filomena took up the corner of her apron and wiped her forehead, as if she were settling her brains into their places.
“Well, that’s a queer set-out!” said she at last, to nobody, for she was left alone. “Me a baby! Whatever would the fellow be at? I reckon I was one once. Eh, but it would be some queer to get back again! What did he say? ‘Meek, patient, gentle, loving, obedient, humble.’ That’s not me! Old Dan wouldn’t think he’d picked up his own wife, if I were made new o’ that fashion. It didn’t sound so bad, though. Wonder how it ’d be if I tried it! That chap said it would make me happy. I’m none that, neither, nor haven’t been these many years. Eh deary me! to think of me a baby!”
While these extremely new ideas were seething in Filomena’s mind, Father Thomas reached the smithy.
“Glad to see you!” said Dan, laying down his hammer. “You did not ’bide so long!” with a grim smile.