Philip could not help laughing at the naïve question, which, however, he perfectly understood.
"Not an old one," he said; "and not a good one; and yet, Lois, truly an honest one. As you mean the word. One whose King Christ is, as he is yours; and who trusts in him with the whole heart, as you do."
"You a Christian!" exclaimed Lois now, in the greatest astonishment.
"When did it happen?"
He laughed again. "A fair question. Well, it came about last summer.
You recollect our talk one Sunday in the rain?"
"O yes!"—
"That set me to thinking; and the more I saw of you,—yes, and of Mrs. Armadale,—and the more I heard of you from Mrs. Barclay, the more the conviction forced itself upon my mind, that I was living, and had always lived, a fool's life. That was a conclusion easily reached; but how to become wise was another matter. I resolved to give myself to the study till I had found the answer; and that I might do it uninterruptedly, I betook myself to the wilds of Canada, with not much baggage beside my gun and my Bible. I hunted and fished; but I studied more than I did either. I took time for it too. I was longing to see you; but I resolved this subject should be disposed of first. And I gave myself to it, until it was all clear to me. And then I made open profession of my belief, and took service as one of Christ's declared servants. That was in Montreal."
"In Montreal!"
"Yes."
"Why did you never say anything about it, then?"
"I am not accustomed to talking on the subject, you know. But, really, I had a reason. I did not want to seem to propitiate your favour by any such means; I wished to try my chances with you on my own merits; and that was also a reason why I made my profession in Montreal. I wanted to do it without delay, it is true; I also wanted to do it quietly. I mean everybody shall know; but I wished you to be the first."