"I am afraid I did not receive much in those days, sir."
"Probably not. Hardly to be expected. I have no doubt you received as much as a child could, from the mysteries which were above its comprehension. What is it now, Miss Eleanor?"
"Something in your line, sir. Dr. Cairnes, you remember the helmet spoken of in the Bible?"
"Helmet?" said the doctor. "Goliath's? He had a helmet of brass upon his head. Must have been heavy, but I suppose he could carry it. The same thing essentially as those worn by our ancestors—a little variation in form. What about it, my dear? I am glad to see you smiling again."
"Nothing about that. I am speaking of another sort of helmet—do you not remember?—it is called somewhere the helmet of salvation."
"That? O!—um! That helmet! Yes—it is in, let me see—it is in the description of Christian armour, in a fine passage in Ephesians, I think. What about that, Miss Eleanor?"
"I want to know, sir, what shape that helmet takes."
It was odd, with what difficulty Eleanor brought out her questions. It was touching, the concealed earnestness which lingered behind her glance and smile.
"Shape?" said the doctor, descending into his cravat;—"um! a fair question; easier asked than answered. Why my dear, you should read a commentary."
"I like living commentaries, Dr. Cairnes."