A Letter of Credit Part 36

At this, however, there came such flashes of changing feeling, of which every change was a variety of pain, in the girl's face, that Mr. Digby's heart was melted. He stretched out his hand and took hers, which lay limp and unresponsive in his grasp, while distressed and startled eyes were fixed upon him.

"I know nothing about it," he said kindly. "I have no foresight of any such time. I shall never do anything to bring it about, Rotha. Only, if it came by no doing of mine, I want you to have the knowledge of one or two things which might be a help to you. Do you understand?"

She looked at him still silently, trying to read his face, as if her fate were there. He met the look as steadily. On one side, a keen, searching, suspicious, fearful inquiry; on the other a calm, frank, steadfastness; till his face broke into a smile.

"Satisfied?" he asked.

"Then why do you speak so, Mr. Digby?" she said with a quiver in her lip.

"My child, this world is proverbially an uncertain and changing thing."

"I know it; but why should you make it more uncertain by talking in that way?"

"I do not. I forestall nothing. I merely would like to have you provided with one or two bits of knowledge; a sort of note of the way, if you should need it. You are not superst.i.tious, are you?"

"I do not know what is superst.i.tious," said Rotha, her eyes still fixed upon his face with an intentness which moved him, while yet at the same time, he saw, she was swallowing down a great deal of disturbance.

"Well," he said, speaking very easily, "it is superst.i.tion, when people think that anything beneath the Creator has power to govern the world he has made--or to govern any part of it."

"I was not thinking of the government of the world," said Rotha,

"Only of a very small part of it,--the affairs of your little life. You were afraid that being prepared for trouble might bring the trouble, in some mysterious way?"

The girl was silent, and her eyes fell to the hand which held hers. What would she do, if ever that hand ceased to be her protection? People of Rotha's temperament receive impressions easily, and to her fancy that hand was an epitome of the whole character to which it belonged.

Delicately membered, and yet nervously and muscularly strong; kept in a perfection of care, and graceful as it was firm in movement; yet ready, she knew, to plunge itself into anything where human want or human trouble called for its help. Rotha loved the touch of it, obeyed every sign of it, and admired every action of it; and now as she looked, two big, hot tears fell down over her cheeks. The hand closed a little more firmly upon her fingers.

"Rotha--you believe me?" he said.

"What, Mr. Digby?"

"You believe me when I tell you, that I am never going to leave you or lose you by any will or doing of mine--"

"By whose then?" said Rotha quickly.

"By n.o.body's else, either, I promise you--unless by your own."

"By mine!" said Rotha, and a faint smile broke upon her troubled face.

"Well, you believe me? And now, my child, that is all you and I can do.

And nevertheless, a time might come when you might want help and comfort, that is all I am saying; and I want to give you one or two things to remember in case such a time ever does come, and I am not at hand to ask.

Get your Bible, and a pencil."

He let her hand loose, and Rotha obeyed immediately.

"Find the fourth chapter of John, and read to the fourteenth verse."

Rotha did so.

"What do you think the Lord meant?"

Rotha studied, and would have said she "did not know," only she had found by experience that Mr. Digby never would take that answer from her in a case like the present.

"I suppose," she said, speaking slowly, and vainly endeavouring to find words that quite suited her,--"he meant--something like-- He meant, that he could give her something good, that would last."

Mr. Digby smiled.

"That would last always, and never fail, nor change, nor wear out its goodness."

"But, Mr. Digby, I should not want to stop being thirsty, because I should lose the pleasure of drinking."

Mr. Digby smiled again. "Did you think _that_ was what the Lord promised?

What would be the use of that 'well of water, springing up into everlasting life'? No, he meant only, that thirst and thirst and thirst as you will, the supply should always be at hand and be sufficient."

Rotha gave one of her quick glances of comprehension, which it was always pleasant to meet.

"Then go on, and tell me what is this living water which the Lord will give?"

"I suppose--do you mean--religion?" she said, after another pause of consideration.

"Religion is a rather vague term--people understand very different things under it. But if by 'religion' you mean the knowledge, the loving knowledge, of G.o.d,--you are right. Living water, in the Bible, constantly typifies the work of the Holy Spirit in the heart; and what He does, where he is received, is, to shew us Christ."

"Then how can people be thirsty, after they have got the knowledge?"

inquired Rotha.

But Mr. Digby's smile was very sweet this time, and awed her.

"After you have once come to know and love a friend," said he, turning his eyes upon Rotha, "are you satisfied, and want to see and hear no more of him?"

"Is religion like that?" said Rotha.

"Just like that. What the Lord Jesus offers to give us is himself. Now suppose the time come when you greatly desire to receive this gift, what are you going to do?"

"I don't know. Pray?"

"Certainly. But how? There are different ways of praying; and there is just one way which the Lord promises shall never miss what it asks for."

"I don't know but one way," said Rotha.

"Are you sure you know _one?_ It takes more than words to make a prayer.

But turn to the second chapter of Proverbs. Read the third and fourth and fifth verses."

Rotha read, and made no comment.

"You see? You understand?"

"Yes, Mr. Digby."

"'If thou searchest for her as for hid treasures, _then_ shalt thou understand, and find.'--You know how people search for hid treasures?"