“If you are able now, my lady, it does not follow that it would have been the best thing for you sooner. Some children learn far better for not being begun early, and will get before others who have been at it for years. As you grow ready for it, somewhere or other you will find what is needful for you--in a book, or a friend, or, best of all in your own thoughts--the eternal thought speaking in your thought.” It flashed through her mind, “Can it be that I have found it now --on the lips of a groom?” Was it her own spirit or another that laughed strangely within her? “Well, as you seem to know so much better than other people,” she said, “I want you to explain to me how the God in whom you profess to believe can make use of such cruelties. It seems to me more like the revelling of a demon.” “My lady!” remonstrated Malcolm, “I never pretended to explain. All I say is, that, if I had reason for hoping there was a God, and if I found, from my own experience and the testimony of others, that suffering led to valued good, I should think, hope, expect to find that he caused suffering for reasons of the highest, purest and kindest import, such as when understood must be absolutely satisfactory to the sufferers themselves. If a man cannot believe that, and if he thinks the pain the worst evil of all, then of course he cannot believe there is a good God. Still, even then, if he would lay claim to being a lover of truth, he ought to give the idea--the mere _idea_ of God fair play, lest there should be a good God after all, and he all his life doing him the injustice of refusing him his trust and obedience.” “And how are we to give the mere idea of him fair play?” asked Clementina, rather contemptuously. But I think she was fighting emotion, confused and troublesome. “By looking to the heart of whatever claims to be a revelation of him.” “It would take a lifetime to read the half of such.” “I will correct myself, and say--whatever of the sort has best claims on _your_ regard--whatever any person you look upon as good, believes and would have you believe--at the same time doing diligently what you _know_ to be right; for, if there be a God, that must be his will, and, if there be not, it remains our duty.” All this time, Florimel was working away at her embroidery, a little smile of satisfaction flickering on her face. She was pleased to hear her clever friend talking so with her strange vassal. As to what they were saying, she had no doubt it was all right, but to her it was not interesting. She was mildly debating with herself whether she should tell her friend about Lenorme.