"Let us pray," he said; and the young man fell to his knees beside his chair and dropped his head into his hands again.
CHAPTER IV
A SHAMELESS THING!
The night that followed that meeting at Queen's Hall was the most tempestuous time Jean Arnot ever passed through.
The dramatic events of the meeting had shaken her hidden soul out of its sanctuary. She was thankful to get home intact—so far, at all events, as outward appearances went.
She went at once to her own room. She locked herself in, and paced the floor till she could pace no more.
She could order her steps, but not her thoughts, and her thoughts took wings and climbed lofty heavens of white-piled clouds, and the white-piled clouds were all rosy-tipped, because the thoughts that scaled them came straight from her heart and were tinged with the rosy gold of her heart's desire.
Oh, wonderful! wonderful! The great big soul of him! Was there a nobler man on earth?
How easy to have let it pass! to have kept it between God and himself only! to have worked out his redemption in secret! But he could not, because he was a true man—the truest man ever born, and the bravest. Oh the great, big, noble soul of him!