"Do you? Are you willing to have him for a King to reign over you? — as well as a Saviour to make you and keep you safe?"
She did not answer.
"You do not know everything about him, neither."
"What don't I know?"
"Almost all. You cannot, till you begin to obey him; for till then he will not shew himself to you. The epitome of all beauty is in those two words — Jesus Christ."
She made no answer yet, with her head bowed, and striving to check the straining sobs with which her breast was heaving. She had a feeling that he was looking on compassionately; but it was a good while before she could restrain herself into calmness; and during that time he added nothing more. When she could look up, she found he was not looking at her; his eyes were turned upon the river, where the moon made a broad and broadening streak of wavy brightness. But Elizabeth looked at the quiet of his brow, and it smote her; though there was now somewhat of thoughtful care upon the face. The tears that she thought she had driven back, rushed fresh to her eyes again.
"Do you believe what I last said, Miss Elizabeth?" he said turning round to her.
"About the epitome of all beauty?"
"Yes. Do you believe it?"
"You say so — I don't understand it," she said sadly and somewhat perplexed.