“There's not a doubt about it, Dawtie. You've got to love him, and you do love him!” “But there's more than that, Andrew. To hear the laird talk you would think he cared more for the Bible than for the whole world--not to say gold cups. He talks of the merits of the Saviour, that you would think he loved Him with all his heart. But I can not get it out of my mind, ever since I saw that look on his face, that he loves that cup--that it's his graven image--his idol! How else should he get up in the middle of the night to--to--to--well, it was just like worshiping it.” “You're afraid then that he's a hypocrite, Dawtie!” “No; I daren't think that--if it were only for fear I should stop loving him--and that would be as bad!” “As bad as what, Dawtie?” “I don't always know what I'm going to say,” answered Dawtie, a little embarrassed, “and then when I've said it I have to look what it means. But isn't it as bad not to love a human being as it would be to love a thing?” “Perhaps worse,” said Andrew. “Something must be done!” she went on. “He can't be left like that! But if he has any love to his Master, how is it that the love of that Master does not cast out the love of Mammon? I can't understand it.” “You have asked a hard question, Dawtie. But a cure may be going on, and take a thousand years or ages to work it out.” “What if it shouldn't be begun yet.” “That would be terrible.” “What then am I to do, Andrew? You always say we must _do_ something! You say there is no faith but what _does_ something!” “The apostle James said so, a few years before I was born, Dawtie!” “Don't make fun of me--please, Andrew! I like it, but I can't bear it to-day, my head is so full of the poor old laird!” “Make fun of you, Dawtie! Never! But I don't know yet how to answer you.” “Well, then, what _am_ I to do?” persisted Dawtie. “Wait, of course, till you know what to do. When you don't know what to do, don't do anything--only keep asking the Thinker for wisdom. And until you know, don't let the laird see that you know anything.” With this answer Dawtie was content. Business was over, and they turned to go home. CHAPTER XVII. DAWTIE AND THE CUP.