She had moved away with impatience, and it was the advantage of this for her that the back she turned prevented him from seeing how intently she listened. She seemed to continue to listen even after he had stopped; but if that gave him a sense of success, he might have been checked by the way she at last turned round with a sad and beautiful headshake. “We share the poor fate of humanity whatever we do, and we do something to help and console when we’ve something precious to show. What on earth is more precious than what the ages have slowly wrought? They’ve trusted us, in such a case, to keep it--to do something, in our turn, for _them_.” She shone out at him as if her contention had the evidence of the noonday sun, and yet in her generosity she superabounded and explained. “It’s such a virtue, in anything, to have lasted; it’s such an honour, for anything, to have been spared. To all strugglers from the wreck of time hold out a pitying hand!” Yule, on this argument,--of a strain which even a good experience of debate could scarce have prepared him to meet,--had not a congruous rejoinder absolutely pat, and his hesitation unfortunately gave him time to see how soon his companion made out that what had touched him most in it was her particular air in presenting it. She would manifestly have preferred he should have been floored by her mere moral reach; yet he was aware that his own made no great show as he took refuge in general pleasantry. “What a plea for looking backward, dear lady, to come from Missoura Top!” “We’re making a Past at Missoura Top as fast as ever we can, and I should like to see you lay your hand on an hour of the one we’ve made! It’s a tight fit, as yet, I grant,” she said, “and that’s just why I like, in yours, to find room, don’t you see? to turn round. You’re _in_ it, over here, and you can’t get out; so just make the best of that and treat the thing as part of the fun!” “The whole of the fun, to me,” the young man replied, “is in hearing you defend it! It’s like your defending hereditary gout or chronic rheumatism and sore throat--the things I feel aching in every old bone of these walls and groaning in every old draught that, I’m sure, has for centuries blown through them.” Mrs. Gracedew looked as if no woman could be shaken who was so prepared to be just all round. “If there be aches--there may be--you’re here to soothe them, and if there be draughts--there _must_ be!--you’re here to stop them up. And do you know what _I’m_ here for? If I’ve come so far and so straight, I’ve almost wondered myself. I’ve felt with a kind of passion--but now I see _why_ I’ve felt.” She moved about the hall with the excitement of this perception, and, separated from him at last by a distance across which he followed her discovery with a visible suspense, she brought out the news. “I’m here for an act of salvation--I’m here to avert a sacrifice!”