Possibly, when he first arrived in London, Frithiof might have scouted such a notion if it had been proposed to him, but now his first question was whether he was really qualified for the situation. Those hard words which had so often confronted him—“Experienced only”—flashed into his mind. “I have had a good education,” he said, “and, of course, understand book-keeping and so forth, but I have had no experience.” “I quite understand that,” said Mr. Boniface. “But you would soon get into the way of things. My son would show you exactly what your work would be.” “Of course I would,” said Roy. “Think it over, Falck, for at any rate it would keep you going for a time while you look round for a better opening.” “Yes, there is no need to make up your mind to-night. Sleep upon it, and let me know how you decide to-morrow. If you think of accepting the situation, then come and see me in Regent Street between half-past one and two o’clock. We close at two on Saturdays. And in any case, whether you accept or refuse this situation, I hope you will come and spend Saturday to Monday with us here.” “You are very good,” said Frithiof, thinking to himself how unlike these people were to any others he had come across in London. Miss Charlotte Turnour had tried to do him good; it was part of her creed to try to do good to people. The Bonifaces, on the other hand, had simply been friendly and hospitable to him, had shown him that they really cared for him, that they were sorry for his sorrow, and anxious over his anxieties. But from Rowan Tree House he went away with a sense of warmth about the heart, and from Miss Charlotte he invariably turned away hardened and disgusted. Perhaps it was that she began at the wrong end, and, like so many people in the world, offered the hard crust of dogmatic utterances to one who was as yet only capable of being nourished on the real substance of the loaf—a man who was dying for want of love, and who no more needed elaborate theological schemes than the starving man in the desert needs the elaborate courses of a dinner-party. It is God’s way to reveal Himself through man, though we are forever trying to improve upon His way, and endeavoring to convert others by articles of religion instead of the beauty of holiness. As Frithiof walked home to Vauxhall he felt more at rest than he had done for many days. They had not preached at him; they had not given him unasked-for advice; they had merely given one of the best gifts that can be given in this world, the sight of one of those homes where the kingdom of heaven has begun—a home, that is, where “righteousness and peace and joy” are the rule, and whatever contradicts this reign of love the rare exception. CHAPTER XIII.