“It would be so much better for you to do anything else. Of course, if you had had a very strong disposition for it--but when you have not. And you would do so very much better for yourself. If you were to give it up----” “Give it up!” cried John; “the only work that is worth doing on earth!” “But, good heavens! Mr Mitford, what do you mean? for I don’t understand you. If it is the only work worth doing on earth, why do you persuade people you don’t mean to do it? I don’t understand.” “Where is there any other work worth doing?” said John. “I don’t want to be a soldier, which might mean something. Could I be a doctor, pretending to know how to cure people of their illnesses--or a lawyer, taking any side he is paid for? No, that is the only work worth doing: to devote one’s whole life to the service of men--to save them, mend them, bring them from the devil to God. Where is there any such work? And yet I pause here on the threshold, all for a defect of nature. I know you are despising me in your heart.” “No, no,” said Kate, quite bewildered. She did not despise him; on the contrary, it just gleamed across her mind that here was something she had no comprehension of--something she had never met with before. “Mr John, it is you who will think me very stupid. But I don’t understand you,” she said, with a certain humility. The answer he made was involuntary. He had no right to do it on such short acquaintance--a mere stranger, you might say. He pressed to his side with unconscious tenderness the hand that rested on his arm. “You don’t understand such pitiful weakness,” he said. “You would see what was right and do it, without lingering and hesitating. I know you would. Don’t be angry with me. We two are nearer each other than anybody else can be--are not we? We were very near for one moment, like one life; and we might have died so--together. That should make us very close--very close--friends.” “Oh, Mr John!” “Don’t cry. I should not have reminded you,” he said, with sudden compunction. “I am so selfish; but you said you felt as if--I belonged to you. So I do--to be your servant--your--anything you please. And that is why I tell you all this weakness of mine, because it was just a chance that we did not die in a moment--together. Oh, hush, hush! I said it to rouse myself, and because it was so sweet. I forgot it must be terrible to you.” “I--I understand,” said Kate, with a sob. “It makes us like--brother and sister. But I never can do anything like that for you. I can only help you with--a little sympathy; but you shall always have that--as if you were--my brother. Oh, never doubt it. I am glad you have told me--I shall know you better now.” “And here I have gone and made her cry like a selfish beast,” said John. “Just one more walk round--and lean heavier on me: and I will not say another word to vex you--not one.”