He was standing before her, looking down. There was something in the look that made Faith's colour come again. She answered seriously, "No sir—not for me."
"Why not?"
"I can't reward you," said Faith; trembling, for she felt she was speaking to the point. "Do it for a better reason."
"Will you shew me a better?"
She answered instantly with a bright little smile, "'Give, and it shall be given unto you; full measure, pressed down, heaped up, and running over, shall men give into your bosom.'"
"In another world!—" said the doctor.
"No—in this. The promise stands for it."
"It's your part of this world—not mine; and unless you shew me the way, Miss Faith, I shall never get into it."—Then more gently, taking her hand and kissing it, he added, "Are you tired of trying to help me?"
Faith met his keen eye, reddened, and drooped her head; for indeed she felt weak. And her words were low and scarce steady. "I will not be tired of praying for you, Dr Harrison."
What swift electric current along the chain of association moved the doctor's next question. He was silent a minute before he spoke it; then spoke in a clear even voice. "May I ask you—is it impertinent—what first led you to this way of thinking?—Sophy says you were not always so."