"Do you think we have such an enemy as we have, and that he will let such an advantage go unimproved? No; when you lose command of yourself Satan takes it,--and uses it." "What does he do with it?" said Rotha in full astonishment. "According to circumstances. To tempt you to wrong, or to tempt you to folly; or if neither of those, to break down your mental and bodily powers, so that you shall be weaker to resist him next time." "Mr. Digby--do you _think_ so?" "Certainly. And when people go on in a way like this, giving ground to Satan, he takes all they give, until finally he has the whole rule of them. Then they seem to their neighbours to be slaves of passion, or of greed, or of drink; but really they are 'possessed of the devil,' and those are the chains in which he holds them." "Mr. Digby," said Rotha humbly, "do you think I have been losing ground?" "I think you have been gaining ground, for a good while." "I am sorry," she said simply. "But how can I help it, Mr. Digby?" "You remember," he said. "You must be under one king or the other; there is no middle ground. 'Whosoever committeth sin, is the servant of sin';--but, 'If the Son shall make you free, ye shall be free indeed.'" Rotha drew a deep sigh, and one or two fresh tears fell. "Now," said he very gently, "do not let us get excited again, but let us talk quietly. What is all this about?" "You are sending me away," said Rotha; "and you are all I have got." "You are not going to lose me. That is settled. Now go on. What next?" "But I shall not be with you?" "Not every day, as here. But I hope to see you very often; and you can always write to me if you have anything in particular upon your mind." "Then," said Rotha, her voice several shades clearer, "you are sending me to be with a person that I don't--respect." "That is serious! Are you sure you are justified in such an opinion, with no more grounds?" "I cannot help it," said Rotha. "I do not think I have reason to respect her." "Then how are you going to get along together?" "I am sure I do not know." "Rotha, I may ask this of you. I ask of you to behave as a lady should, in your aunt's house. I ask you to be well-bred and well-mannered always; whatever you feel." "Do you think I can, Mr. Digby?" said the girl looking earnestly at him. "I am sure of it." "But--do I know how?" "I will give you an unfailing recipe," said Mr. Digby smiling. "'Whatsoever ye would that men should do to you, do ye even so to them'; and for details, study the 13th chapter of the first epistle to the Corinthians." "Is that the chapter about charity?" "About love. The word means love, not charity." "Mr. Digby, it is very hard to act as if you loved people, when you do not." "True," said he smiling. "That is what the world means by good manners. But what Christians should mean by that term is the real thing." "And I do not think I can," Rotha went on.