He shook his head, but with the same smile continued: "I never thought to have found _you_ my tempter; but now tell me, whither would you direct me?" "_I_ direct you! oh, Mr. Temple, you speak ironically; but surely, there must be ways and means, by which one like you, may more effectually use your powers to the glory of God and the good of mankind, than by remaining in this secluded place, amongst people, who for the most part, do not even comprehend your language. If I understood aright, you only retired for a time, when some sorrow or trouble came upon you. I am very bold, to-night;" breaking off in some confusion, for she perceived a deep palor overspread his countenance, "but, I hope, now that there is such an excellent man as Mr. Lloyd to fulfil your voluntary duties, amongst the poor people of this dear place, you will not doom yourself longer to such--I could almost fancy it--ungenial retirement." "Where should I go?" he sadly said, but with an earnestness which again surprised and startled Mary, whilst he fixed his eyes on her face as if on her answer his future course depended. "Where?" she repeated with embarrassment, "you ask _me_, who know so little of the world, _you_ who know so much?" "I do indeed," he replied, with something of bitterness in his tone, "and my experience, my dear Miss Seaham, has not made that text to me so difficult of fulfilment which says, 'Love not the world, neither the things that are in the world.' But you will think that I speak to-night more like a disappointed melancholy misanthrope than a minister of that Word, which breathes forth the spirit of peace and goodwill towards men; nor will you think it kind that I thus unfavourably impress you concerning this world, with which, it may be said, you, almost for the first time, are about to make acquaintance." "_I_, Mr. Temple? oh no, indeed. I look upon myself as far too insignificant a being, one destined to play far too insignificant a part on that great stage to fear much its enmity." "Or its friendship?" Mr. Temple responded interrogatively; "for we must remember, 'that the _friendship_ of the world is enmity with God!'" He spoke these words with a certain sad solemnity. Miss Seaham listened to the exhortation in meek, submissive silence, though to look upon her calm, sweet, holy countenance one might have thought the sin of worldliness could scarcely cleave to the soul which seemed reflected thereupon. A silence again succeeded, broken by Mr. Temple. "Miss Seaham, do you think you shall find the life in this same great world, so suited to your tastes as that which has glided by so peacefully in this quiet sphere of action?" "Perhaps not," she answered; but with frank simplicity quickly added, "yet I cannot but fancy I might enjoy this all the more if I were permitted to return from having been parted from my old pursuits for a little time--from having seen more, and entered upon a more varied scene of existence."