"I never told you that just before we left Trowsby I had a dream. It was the most painful dream I have ever had and I can't think of it even now without a shudder. I'd rather not tell you what it was; but it was nothing more or less than a looking glass in which I saw myself for the first time, and I want you to know that I believe we left Trowsby for my sake as well as for yours." Any great emotion was bad for Rachel, and when Luke turned and looked at her he was distressed to see how white she had become. "Am I tiring you dearest?" he said, with concern. "No. I'm only so very glad to hear what you say," she answered. "The thought that you had to leave your interesting work for me, has been such a burden on my mind." "Well it need be a burden no longer. I believe it was for the sake of your bodily health that we came here but also for my soul. You see, I doubt if your soul wants the discipline that mine does. Anyhow, my spiritual life was not in a healthy condition; I needed to take a back seat, if you understand what I mean. I am not sure that my work was not becoming my god, and I was too much in the lime-light. Anyhow, now I can work for God and for Him alone. I think He has given the work that is best for me." Rachel, in her weak state could not prevent the tears of sympathy from falling, but she brushed them away with her hand, and Luke did not see them. "What is the work?" she asked. "I'm writing a book for young men. When I was in Trowsby I often felt the need of one which faced the difficult problems of the day honestly and wisely. I am trying to contend earnestly for the faith. Of course it means the need of much prayer and study." Rachel held out her hand and Luke grasped it in his own. "You see how much better it is for me than preaching," he explained. "I don't mean to put my name to the book, and shall never know what it has done for people. God only will know that, so there will be no chance of conceit and pride getting the better of me in my work. I do not see how I can forget God in the work as I need Him every moment. I feel I am contending with the devil and he does not leave me alone. But no-one knows but God—and now," he added, "my wife." Rachel had never loved her husband or admired him more than she did at that moment. She sat and looked at him with her heart in her eyes; but she did not speak. "I meant to keep it a secret," he said, "till I could put the finished book into your hands. But now you know. I have sent the first few chapters to Sharnis and he is pleased with them and quite hopes to undertake its publication. But I don't want anyone to know about it. Now do you think you can help me about my mother? I don't feel as if I could be constantly asked questions about it. It's such a sacred thing to me that I cannot talk about it. Besides, as I'm not putting my name to the book, it is important that no-one should know that I'm writing it."