Ethel Brown looked frankly into the benign face above her and made a prompt answer to the question, "Is this your first summer at Chautauqua?" But Ethel Blue was overcome with the embarrassment that seemed to be growing upon her lately, and hardly raised her eyes. Yet as Miss Kimball turned to go on and Ethel Brown walked away beside her Ethel Blue found herself saying desperately in a small voice,
"Bishop, would you tell me something? I must—I want to know something."
"Come and sit down here and tell me what it is," answered the kind and genial tones that could make the huge Amphitheatre ring or could comfort a child with equal effect.
Drawing her to a seat a little way down the sloping aisle the Bishop and the young girl sat down.
"Now what is it?" he asked softly.
Again shyness seized Ethel and made her speechless. She looked desperately after Ethel Brown, unconscious that the others were not following. Ethel Blue turned cold at her own audacity; but she had delayed the Bishop in his afternoon walk and she must tell him what was on her mind.
"Do you think," she stammered, "do you think that a coward can ever become brave?"
"I do," answered the Bishop promptly and simply. "A coward is afraid for two reasons; first, he doesn't control his imagination, and his imagination plays him tricks and makes him think that if such or such a thing happens to him he will suffer terribly; and secondly, he doesn't control his will. His will ought to stand up to his imagination and say, 'You may be right and you may be wrong, but even if you're right I can bear whatever comes. Pain may come, but I can bear it. Trouble may come, but I can bear it.' Do you understand?"
Ethel's face was beginning to light up.
"You see," the Bishop went on, "God has given everybody the power to bear suffering and trouble. You may be perfectly sure that if suffering and trouble come to you you will be given strength to meet them. And God has given us something else; He has given us the power to avoid much pain and suffering."