Which sent Mrs. Derrick off in triumph. But when she was gone, Faith did not take her basket of stockings, nor yet her arithmetic; but sat down by the table with her head in her hands and sat very still. Still, until Mr. Linden came in, laid one paper on the table at her side, and sat down to read another. Faith's darning-needle came into play then, and worked quick and silently. Mr. Linden glanced towards it as he laid down his paper. "I see you evaded my question last night," he said,--"there could not be such a _constant_ supply, if there were not also a constant demand." "Mr. Linden," said Faith, her colour a little raised and her voice changing somewhat,--"I want to ask you something--if you are not busy about anything." "I am not but you might ask just as freely if I were." "I couldn't," said Faith. She drew her hand out of her stocking and put her thimble on the table. "Mr. Linden," she said without looking at him,--"a while ago, when you were speaking of faith and a cloudy day, and I told you I wasn't like that,--you said I must read the Bible then, and do what that said. I have been trying to do it."-- Shading his eyes with his hand, he looked at her--as if waiting to hear more. "And I don't understand it," she said.--"I don't know how to get on." "Do you mean, with the Bible? Is it _that_ you do not understand?" "I don't understand some things--I don't know exactly what I ought to do." "In what respect?--where is the difficulty? Some things in the Bible you never will understand, perhaps, in this world, and others you must learn by degrees." "I don't understand exactly what makes a Christian--and I want to be one." It was spoken low, and timidly; but Faith was in earnest. Mr. Linden sat silent a minute, without changing his position. "A Christian is one, who trusting in Christ as his only Saviour, thenceforth obeys him as his only King." Faith hesitated and thought. "I don't understand," she said folding her hands, "--about the trusting." "Suppose there was something you wanted done too hard for your strength but not for mine,--would you know how to trust it in my hands?" She bowed her head and said, "Yes!" "Suppose I consented to do it only upon condition that for the rest of your life my will and pleasure should be your only rule of action,--would the great work still be yours or mine?" "Why, yours," she said, still looking at him. "Cannot you see Christ--standing between God and man, offering his own blood where justice demands ours, and with his perfect righteousness covering our imperfect obedience? So 'that God may be just, and yet the justifier of him that believeth in Jesus.' Can you apply any words? Can you see that Christ only is 'mighty to save'?--Are you willing to trust yourself in his hands?" Faith dropped her eyes for a minute or two, but the lines of her face were changing.