"I don't think, dear, that it will be wise. Dorothy is at all times afraid of me, and a long walk alone with me would be a terrible undertaking in her eyes; and, besides, Louise dear, I am not like you—I cannot talk familiarly with people on these topics as you can."
"Don't talk any more than you think wise; get acquainted with Dorrie, and drop one little seed that may spring up and bear fruit. I want you to try it, Lewis."
There was something in her face and voice when she said such things that had often moved Lewis before to go contrary to his own wishes. It worked the same spell over him now; without another word of objection he turned away—though the walk home in the starlight had been a delightful prospect—and went to do what was a real cross to him.
What had he and Dorothy in common? What could they say to each other?
"What is all this?" John questioned sharply as Lewis strode out of the gate with the frightened Dorothy tucked under his arm. He suspected a trap, and he had all a young man's horror of being caught with cunningly-devised plans. He was quick-witted; if this were one of Louise's schemes to lecture him under pretence of enjoying a walk, she would find him very hard to reach.
Fortunately for her, Louise was also quick-witted. He was not one to be caught with guile, at least not guile of this sort. She answered his question promptly and frankly.
"It is a plan of mine, John: I wanted to talk with you, and it seemed to me this would be a good opportunity. You do not mind walking with me, do you?"
Thus squarely met, what was John to say? He said nothing, but he reasoned in his heart that this was a straightforward way of doing things, anyhow—no "sneaking" about it.
"Well," he said, as, after offering his arm, they walked over the frozen earth for a little in silence, "what have you got to say to me? Why don't you begin your lecture?"
"O John! It isn't in the least like a lecture; it is a simple thing, very easily said: I wish you were a Christian man; that comprises the whole story."