"You are right." Mr. Richmond began his pacing up and down again. Matilda stood with a cup in her hands which she had been washing, the water dripping from her fingers and it into the tub.
"How can I help it, Mr. Richmond?"
Mr. Richmond was thinking perhaps of Fenelon's words: "O how rare is it, to find a soul still enough to hear God speak!"—but he did not quote them to the child. He stood still again.
"Tilly, when one gets out of hearing of those voices, the enemy has a good chance to whisper to us; and he never loses a chance. That was what happened to Eve in the garden of Eden."
"How can I do, Mr. Richmond?"
"I should say, dear, don't get out of hearing of them."
"But, sometimes"—Matilda paused in difficulty. "Sometimes I am thinking of so many other things, and my head gets full; and then I do not know where I am."
Mr. Richmond smiled. "You could not have given a better description of the case," he said. "But Matilda, when you find that you do not know where you are, run away, shut yourself up, and find out. It isn't safe to get out of hearing of the Lord's voice."
"O Mr. Richmond!" said the child. "I want to be where I can hear it all the time."
"There is one way. Don't you know it?"