Mr. Shubrick was silent. Dolly pondered.
"Do I know what you mean?" she said.
"I think you do," he replied. "Do you remember it is written, —'Casting your care upon Him, for He careth for you'?"
"And that means, not to care myself?"
"Not anxiously, or doubtfully. You cannot trust your care to another, and at the same time keep it yourself."
"I know all that," said Dolly slowly; "or I thought I knew it. How is it, then, that it is so difficult to get the good of it?"
"Was it very difficult to trust me?" Mr. Shubrick asked.
"No," said Dolly, "because—you know you are not a stranger, Mr. Shubrick. I feel as if I knew you."
He lifted his eyes and looked at her; not regarding the compliment to himself, but with a steady, keen eye carrying Dolly's own words home to her. He did not say a word; but Dolly changed colour.
"Oh, do you mean that?" she cried, almost with tears. "Is it because I know Christ so poorly that I trust Him so slowly?"