"Thank you."
"Julia has been leading me over the garden and grounds. I did not know where she was bringing me."
"How do you like my garden?"
"For a garden of that sort – it seems to me well arranged."
He was very cool, certainly, in giving his opinion, Eleanor thought.
Her gardening pride was touched. This was a pet of her own.
"Then you do not fancy gardens of this sort."
"I believe I think Nature is the best artist of all."
"But would you let Nature have her own way entirely?"
"No more in the vegetable than I would in the moral world. She would grow weeds."
The quick clear sense and decision, in the eye and accent, were just what Eleanor did not want to cope with. She was silent. So were her two companions; for Julia was busy with a nosegay she was making up. Then Mr. Rhys turned to Eleanor, "Julia said you had a question to ask of me, Miss Powle."
"Yes, I had," – said Eleanor, colouring slightly and hesitating. "But you cannot answer it standing – will you come in, Mr. Rhys?"
"Thank you – if you will allow me, I will take this instead," said he, sitting down on one of the steps before the glass door. "What was the question?"
"That was the other day, when she brought in her ferns – it was a wish I had. But she ought not to have troubled you with it."
"It will give me great pleasure to answer you – if I can."
Eleanor half fancied he knew what the question was; and she hesitated again, feeling a good deal confused. But when should she have another chance? She made a bold push.
"I felt a curiosity to ask you – I did not know any one else who could tell me – what that 'helmet' was, you spoke of one day; – that day at the old priory?"
Eleanor could not look up. She felt as if the clear eyes opposite her were reading down in the depth of her heart. They were very unflinching about it. It was curiously disagreeable and agreeable both at once.
"Have you wanted it, these weeks past?" said he.
The question was unexpected. It was put with a penetrating sympathy. Eleanor felt if she opened her lips to speak she could not command their steadiness. She gave no answer but silence.
"A helmet?" said Julia looking up. "What is a helmet?"
"The warriors of old time," said Mr. Rhys, "used to wear a helmet to protect their heads from danger. It was a covering of leather and steel. With this head-piece on, they felt safe; where their lives would not have been worth a penny without it."
"But Eleanor – what does Eleanor want of a helmet?" said Julia. And she went off into a shout of ringing laughter.
"Perhaps you want one," said Mr. Rhys composedly.
"No, I don't. What should I want it for? What should I cover my head with leather and steel for, Mr. Rhys?"
"You want something stronger than that."
"Something stronger? What do I want, Mr. Rhys?"
"To know that, you must find out first what the danger is."
"I am not in any danger."
"How do you know that?"
"Am I, Mr. Rhys?"
"Let us see. Do you know what the Lord Jesus Christ has done for us all?"
"No."
"Do you know whether God has given us any commandments?"
"Yes; I know the ten commandments. I have learned them once, but I don't remember them."
"Have you obeyed them?"
"Me?"
"Yes. You."
"I never thought about it."
"Have you disobeyed them then?"
Eleanor breathed more freely, and listened. It was curious to her to see the wayward, giddy child stand and look into the eyes of her questioner as if fascinated. The ordinary answer from Julia would have been a toss and a fling. Now she stood and said sedately, "I don't know."
"We can soon tell," said her friend. "One of the commandments is, to remember the Sabbath day and keep it holy. Have you always done that?"
"No," said Julia bluntly. "I don't think anybody else does."
"Never mind anybody else. Have you always honoured the word and wish of your father and mother? That is another command."
"I have done it more than Alfred has."
"Let Alfred alone. Have you always done it?"
"No, sir."
"Have you loved the good God all your life, with all your heart?"
"No."
"You have loved to please yourself, rather than anything else?"
The nod with which Julia answered this, if not polite, was at least significant, accompanied with an emphatic "Always!" Mr. Rhys could not help smiling at her, but he went on gravely enough.
"What is to keep you then from being afraid?"
"From being afraid?"
"Yes. You want a helmet."
"Afraid?" said Julia.
"Yes. Afraid of the justice of God. He never lets a sin go unpunished.
He is perfectly just."
"But I can't help it," said Julia.
"Then what is to become of you? You need a helmet."
"A helmet?" said Julia again. "What sort of a helmet?"
"You want to know that God has forgiven you; that he is not angry with you; that he loves you, and has made you his child."
"How can I?" said the child, pressing closer to the speaker where he sat on the step of the door. And no wonder, for the words were given with a sweet earnest utterance which drew the hearts of both bearers. He went on without looking at Eleanor; or without seeming to look that way.
"How can you what?"
"How can I have that?"
"That helmet? There is only one way."
"What is it, Mr. Rhys?"
They were silent a minute, looking at each other, the man and the child; the child with her eyes bent on his.
"Suppose somebody had taken your punishment for you? borne the displeasure of God for your sins?"
"Who would?" said Julia. "Nobody would."
"One has."
"Who, Mr. Rhys?"
"One that loved you, and that loved all of us, well enough to pay the price of saving us."
"What price did he pay?"
"His own life. He gave it up cruelly – that ours might be redeemed."
"What for, Mr. Rhys? what made him?"
"Because he loved us. There was no other reason."
"Then people will be saved" – said Julia.
"Every one who will take the conditions. It depends upon that. There are conditions."
"What conditions, Mr. Rhys?"
"Do you know who did this for you?"
"No."
"It is the Lord himself – the Lord Jesus Christ – the Lord of glory. He thought it not robbery to be equal with God; but he made himself of no reputation, and took upon him the form of a servant, and was made in the likeness of men; and being found in fashion as a man, he humbled himself and became obedient unto death – even the death of the cross. So now he is exalted a Prince and a Saviour – able to save all who will accept his conditions."
"What