"But—"
Faith got no further. She stood thinking of that afternoon's talk, and of the certain possible hindrances to her following such advice.
"I am talking a little in the dark, you know," Mr. Linden said,—"I am only supposing what he may say and ask you to say; and I do not think much of such conversation between any parties. Press home the truth—and like David's pebble it may do its work; but in a fencing match David might have found it harder to maintain his ground. And his overthrow would not have touched the truth of his cause, nor perhaps his own faith—yet the Philistine would have triumphed."
"Thank you, Mr. Linden," she said with a grateful smile. "That is just the truth. But, do you think Dr. Harrison is—exactly a Philistine?"
"Not in all respects," he said smiling. "What do you mean by a
Philistine?"
"I thought you put him in the place of that Philistine," she said.
"Yes, for the illustration. But I do not know him to be strictly a champion of unbelief, although he avows himself on that side. His conversations with me have left me uncertain how far he would go."
Faith was silent and looked thoughtful.
"Have I touched any of your difficulties? May I hear any more?"
"No—" she said. "I believe you have said all you can say. And it is good for me."