“What do you believe?” asked Christina, looking at him. “Are you religious?”
“I believe in God.”
Christina let her beautiful eyes wander a while, and then gave a little sigh. “You are much to be envied!”
“You, I imagine, in that line have nothing to envy me.”
“Yes, I have. Rest!”
“You are too young to say that.”
“I am not young; I have never been young! My mother took care of that. I was a little wrinkled old woman at ten.”
“I am afraid,” said Rowland, in a moment, “that you are fond of painting yourself in dark colors.”
She looked at him a while in silence. “Do you wish,” she demanded at last, “to win my eternal gratitude? Prove to me that I am better than I suppose.”
“I should have first to know what you really suppose.”