Jim had original views of almost everything, but particularly of religion. He was sincerely earnest in all he said, and very tolerant of the opinions of others. But he was original. He had got his ideas from a close communication with nature. He was religious by nature. It was one of the anomalies of that fruitful theme of discussion that Clinton, scornful and rather superficial, should uphold sectarianism and all its superstitions, as it was preached in that little country chapel, with all the decidedly fervent descriptions of hell-fire and burning brimstone, while Jim, pious and earnest in all he thought and did, should reject this preposterous idea of eternal punishment, accepting instead the grander thoughts of eternal love that nature had taught him. There was very little good obtained by these discussions--there seldom is--but they served as a zest for their quiet life, furnishing the spice necessary to make their quiet evenings enjoyable. CHAPTER VII. “I HAVE LOST HER!” Of course there was love in it all. What else could result from such an accident? When a young man, good-looking, well enough educated, with pleasing manners--when the rascal chose to exert them, as he certainly did now--and a young and healthy female, heart and fancy free, are thrown into constant and familiar intercourse, there will generally result a violent passion, either of love or hate. But add to the first cause the additional ones of illness on one side, and a desire to alleviate it on the other, and what could result but love? Young men have been injured and nursed, and have fallen in love with their nurses time and again; so often in fact, that the result has become so commonplace as to cease to be romantic. And if there was nothing of greater interest to result from this accidental illness than the love of Norine Bright and Clinton Percival, there would be very little use in my trying to tell the story. There _was_ love in it--there could be no doubt about that--and I think this had been expected by all but Norine. So, in turn, Norine was the last one of all to realize the actual result. And I think if it had so happened that this young man, instead of staying to get unreasonably well, had coolly walked off some day, leaving nothing but his thanks, Norine would have been the only one at Bright Farm free from disappointment. They all saw it with this exception. And Mrs. Higgins became so mixed, between her pride in the fact that her dear Norry had a “bo,” and her own decided and inextinguishable dislike for the aforesaid “bo,” that she was halfway between hugging the one and hitting the other all the time. Out of her love for Norine she would concoct the choicest and most delicate dishes for their guest, and would fervently wish that he might choke himself to death with one of them.