“Sit down,” said the man, waving Sidney to a place upon a pile of boards. It struck Sidney that there was a sense of luxury in the way in which he let his frame relax; it was an unaccustomed treat, evidently, these few moments stolen in the midst of the sunshiny forenoon.
“Now for your news,” said the man. “Is it about yourself?”
“Yes,” said Sidney, “and it will surprise you greatly. I am about to become, in fact already am, a Minister.”
“Of what—to whom—where?” asked the man.
“A preacher of the Christian gospel,” said Sidney. “To a pious little community in the New England hills.”
There was silence for a moment. The whirr of the wheels came to them, they heard a postman’s whistle in the street outside and the chirping of some sparrows which fluttered about the empty car.
“You are disappointed,” said Sidney; “you disapprove, but——”
The man raised his hand.
“It’s for a woman, I suppose,” he said. “Would nothing satisfy her but your soul?”
“Oh,” cried Sidney, “I will do my duty by them. I will preach the truth to them. They shall know how noble and lovely life may be. They shall be shown what real beauty is, and told that righteousness for righteousness’ sake is the highest good.”