"I'm glad your experience has been turned to such good account. Now, I for example, never had a beau until you came."
"What?"
"Oh, don't feign surprise. You know, I'm no beauty, and I never was popular with the boys. Someone once told me it was because I was too religious. What do you think of that?"
"Too religious! Nonsense. The one thing above another, if there is such, that I like about you is that your beauty of heart and soul corresponds to your beauty of face—No; don't contradict. You have the highest type of beauty—"
"Beauty is in the eyes that see," she interrupted.
"Certainly; and in the heart that understands. As I said, the highest type of beauty is where the inner and the outer are harmoniously combined. I think that is another application of the truth that the spiritual and the mortal, or 'element' as the revelation calls it, must be eternally connected to insure a perfect being. Somehow, I always sympathize with one whose beautiful spirit is tabernacled in a plain body. And yet, my pity is a hundred times more profound for one whom God has given a beautiful face and form, but whose heart and soul have been made ugly by sin—but there, if I don't look out, I'll be preaching."
"Well, your congregation likes to hear you preach."
Space will not permit the recording of the number of times emphasis was given to various expressions in this conversation by the hand pressure under the shawl.
"Now," continued he, "I can't conceive of your not having any admirers."