There was another long pause, which he was the first to break.
“Do you know, Ellen, I sometimes tremble for you, when I think of your husbands opinions. In time you may learn to share them, and then we should be further apart than ever. At present, it is my sole comfort to know you possess that living faith without which every soul is lost.”
“Lost?” she repeated, in a bewildering way, not looking at him.
“I don’t mean in the vulgar sense; the theological ideas of damnation have never had my sanction, far less my sympathy. But materialism degrades the believer, and sooner or later comes a disbelief in all that is holy, beautiful, and sanctified. It is a humble creed, the new creed of science, and fatal to spiritual hopes.”
“Does it matter so much what one believes, if one’s life is good?”
“It matters so much that I would rather see one I loved dead before my feet than an avowed unbeliever. But there, I have not come to preach to you. When does Mr. Haldane return?”
“As I told you: in a fortnight, perhaps sooner.”
“And during his absence we shall meet again, I hope?”
She hesitated and looked at him. His eyes were fixed on the distant woods, though he stood expectantly, as if awaiting her reply, which did not come.
“Can you not trust me?” he exclaimed. “You know I am your friend?”