ort it
is. There be places, _Milly_, where a man may get to, that he can be
sure of nothing in all the universe save God. And thou shalt not travel
far, neither, to come to the end of that cord."

"O Aunt _Joyce_, I do never love to hear such talk as that!" saith
_Milly_. "It causeth one feel so poor and mean."

"Then it causeth thee feel what thou art," saith she. "'Tis good for a
man to find, at times, how little he can do."

"It may be good, but 'tis mighty displeasant," quoth _Milisent_.

"'Tis very well when it be no worse than displeasant," Aunt _Joyce_
makes answer. "I thought of places, _Milly_, which were not
displeasant, but awful--where the human soul feels nigh to being shut up
in the blackness of darkness for ever. Thou wist little of such things
yet. But most souls which be permitted to soar high aloft be made
likewise to descend deep down. _David_ went deep enough--may-be deeper
than any other save _Christ_. Look you, he was appointed to write the
_Psalter_. Throughout all the ages coming, of his words was the Church
to serve her when she should come into deep places. There must be
somewhat therein for every _Christian_ soul, and every _Jewish_ belike,
ere _Christ_ came. And to do that, I reckon _David_ had need to go very
deep down. He that shall help a man to climb forth of a well must know
whereto the water reacheth, and on which side the steps be. List
him--`Out of the depths have I cried unto Thee, O Lord!' `I am come
into deep places, where the floods overflow me.'"

"But, _Aunt_," said I, yet was I something feared to say it, "was not
that hard on _David_? It scarce seems just that he should have to go
through all those cruel troubles for our good."

"Ah, _Edith_," saith she, "the Lord payeth His bills in gold of _Ophir_.
I warrant you _David_ felt his deep places sore trying. But ask thou
at him, when ye meet, if he would have missed them. He shall see
clearer then when he shall wake up after His likeness, and shall be
satisfied with it."

"What sort of deep places mean you, _Aunt_?" saith _Helen_, looking on
her somewhat earnestly.

"Thou dost well to ask, _Nell_," quoth she, "for there be divers sorts
of depths. There be mind depths, the which are at times, as _Milly_
saith, displeasant: at other times not displeasant. But there be soul
depths for the which displeasant is no word. When the Lord seems to
shut every door in thy face and to leave thee shut up in a well