“To open her eyes.”
“I would not if I were you,” he said, gravely; “it is not often that a child has her faith. To shake it means a great deal.”
“What are you talking about now?”
“I don’t often read my Bible,” he continued, “but, of course, I did as a boy—most boys do. My mother was a good woman. I am thinking of something said in that Holy Book.”
“You are quite serious; I never knew you in this mood before.”
“I must tell it to you. ‘Whosoever shall offend one of these little ones, it were better that a millstone were hanged about his neck, and he were cast into the depths of the sea.’”
“How unpleasant,” said Mrs. Ogilvie, after a pause, “and I rather fail to see the connection. Shall we change the subject?”
“With pleasure.”
“What arrangement did you make with Philip yesterday?”
“I made no absolute arrangement, but I think he will do according to your wishes.”