"I don't know the first thing about this country," he broke the silence. "It was always a little spot in the corner of the map that I thought was no sort of count. Why, it's a grand place!"
"You ought to read about it in history."
"I never read much history, that's a fact," Rupert answered. "Never had much to read," he added with a laugh. "Fact is, my life up to now has been pretty much of a scrimmage for the needful."
"Knowledge is needful," said Dolly.
"That's a fact; but a fellow must live first, you see. And that warn't always easy once."
"And what are your plans or prospects? What do you mean to be--or do?
what do you mean to make of yourself?"
Rupert half laughed. "I haven't any prospects--to speak of. In fact, I don't see ahead any further than Venice. As to what I am to be, or do,--I expect that will be settled without any choice of mine. I've got along, so far, somehow; I guess I'll get along yet."
"Are you a Christian?" Dolly asked, following a sudden impulse.
"I guess I ain't what you mean by that."
"What do you mean by it?"
"Well--where I come from, they call Christians folks that have j'ined the church."
"That's making a profession," said Dolly.
"Yes, I've heard folks call it that."
"But what is the reality? _What_ do you think a man professes when he joins the church?"
"I'll be shot if I know," Rupert answered, looking at her hard in the fading light. "I'd like first-rate to hear you say."
"It is just to be a servant of Christ," said Dolly. "A true servant, 'doing the will of God from the heart.'"
"How are you going to know what His will is? I should be bothered if you asked _me_."
"Oh, He has told us that," said Dolly, surprised. "In the Bible."
"Then I s'pose you've got to study _that_ considerable."
"Certainly."
"Well, don't it say things pretty different from what most folks do?"
"Yes. What then?"
"Then it wouldn't be just easy to get along with it, I should think."
"What then?"
"Well!" said Rupert,--"how are you going to live in the world, and not do as the world do?"
"Then you _have_ studied the Bible a little?"
"No, fact, I haven't," said Rupert. "But I've heard folks talk now and again; and that's what I think about it."
"Suppose it is difficult?" said Dolly. "But it is really not difficult, if one is a true servant of God and not only make-believe. Suppose it were difficult, though. Do you remember what Christ said of the two ways, serving Him and not serving Him?"
Rupert shook his head.
"Have you got a Bible of your own?"
"No," said Rupert. "That's an article I never owned yet. I've always wanted other things more, you see."
"And I would rather want everything else in the world," said Dolly. "I mean, I would rather be without everything else."
"Surely!" said Rupert.
"Because I am a servant of Christ, you see. Now that is what I want you to be. And as to the question of ease or difficulty--this is what I was going to repeat to you. Jesus said, that those who hear and obey Him are like a house planted on a rock; fixed and firm; a house that when the storms come and the winds blow, is never so much as shaken. But those who do not obey Him are like a house built on the sand. When the storms blow and the winds beat, it will fall terribly and all to ruins.
It seems to me, Mr. Babbage, that _that_ is harder than the other."
"Suppose the storms do not come?" said Rupert.
"I guess they come to most people," said Dolly soberly. "But the Lord did not mean these storms merely. I don't know whether He meant them at all. He meant the time by and by.--Come, we must go home," said Dolly, beginning to go forward again. "I wish you would be a servant of Christ, Mr. Babbage!"
"Why?"
"Oh, because all that is sure and strong and safe and happy is on that side," said Dolly, speaking eagerly. "All that is noble and true and good. You are sure of nothing if you are not a Christian, Mr. Babbage; you are not sure even of yourself. Temptation may whirl you, you don't know where, and before you know it and before you can help it. And when the storms come, those storms--your house will--go down--in the sands"---- And to Rupert's enormous astonishment, Dolly's voice broke here, and for a second she stood still, drawing long sobs; then she lifted her head with an effort, took his arm and went swiftly back on the way to the hotel. He had not been able to say one word. Rupert could not have the faintest notion of the experience which had pointed and sharpened Dolly's last words; he could not imagine why, as they walked home, she should catch a hasty breath now and then, as he knew she did, a breath which was almost a sob; but Rupert Babbage was Dolly's devoted slave from that day.
Lawrence himself marvelled somewhat at the appearance and manner of the young lady in the evening. The talk and the thoughts had roused and stirred Dolly, with partly the stir of pain, but partly also the sense of work to do and the calling up of all her loving strength to do it.
Her cheek had a little more colour than usual, her eye a soft hidden fire, her voice a thrill of tender power. She was like, Lawrence thought, a most rare wild wood flower, some spiritual orchis or delicious and delicate geranium; in contrast to the severely trained, massive and immoveable tulips and camellias of society. She was at a vexatious distance from him, however; and handled him with a calm superiority which no woman of the world could have improved upon. Only it was nature with Dolly.
CHAPTER XIX.
SEEING SIGHTS.
The next day's journey was uninteresting and slow. Mrs. Copley grew tired; and even dinner and rest at a good hotel failed to restore her spirits.
"How many more days will it be before we get to Dresden?" she desired to know.
"Keep up your courage, Mrs. Copley," said Lawrence. "Remember the Green vaults! We have some work before us yet to get there."
"We shall not get there to-morrow?"
"We shall hardly do more than reach Cassel to-morrow."
"I don't know anything about Cassel. Will it be nothing but sand all the way, like to-day? We have left everything pretty behind us in Holland."