“Why not?”
“Well, it does not seem to be my nature, and I don’t know how to change it. I want something to keep me steady, but I can’t find it. So I whiffle about this way and that, and sometimes think I am a most degenerate creature.”
“That is only human nature, so don’t be troubled. We are all compasses pointing due north. We get shaken often, and the needle varies in spite of us; but the minute we are quiet, it points right, and we have only to follow it.”
“The keeping quiet is just what I cannot do. Your mother shows me how lovely it is, and I try to imitate it; but this restless soul of mine will ask questions and doubt and fear, and worry me in many ways. What shall I do to keep it still?” asked Christie, smiling, yet earnest.
“Let it alone: you cannot force these things, and the best way is to wait till the attraction is strong enough to keep the needle steady. Some people get their ballast slowly, some don’t need much, and some have to work hard for theirs.”
“Did you?” asked Christie; for David’s voice fell a little, as he uttered the last words.
“I have not got much yet.”
“I think you have. Why, David, you are always cheerful and contented, good and generous. If that is not true piety, what is?”
“You are very much deceived, and I am sorry for it,” said David, with the impatient gesture of the head, and a troubled look.
“Prove it!” And Christie looked at him with such sincere respect and regard, that his honest nature would not let him accept it, though it gratified him much.