Love and Truth and Right, creating children of
its own," said the curate--"and there is our difference."

"Yes," assented Faber.

"Anyhow, then," said Wingfold, "so far as regards the matter in hand,
all we can say is, that under such and such circumstances life
_appears--whence_, we believe differently; _how_, neither of us can
tell--perhaps will ever be able to tell. I can't talk in scientific
phrase like you, Faber, but truth is not tied to any form of words."

"It is well disputed," said the doctor, "and I am inclined to grant that
the question with which we started does not immediately concern the
great differences between us."

It was rather hard upon Faber to have to argue when out of condition and
with a lady beside to whom he was longing to pour out his soul--his
antagonist a man who never counted a sufficing victory gained, unless
his adversary had had light and wind both in his back. Trifling as was
the occasion of the present skirmish, he had taken his stand on the
lower ground. Faber imagined he read both triumph and pity in Juliet's
regard, and could scarcely endure his position a moment longer.

"Shall we have some music?" said Wingfold. "--I see the piano open. Or
are you one of those worshipers of work, who put music in the morning in
the same category with looking on the wine when it is red?"

"Theoretically, no; but practically, yes," answered Faber, "--at least
for to-day. I shouldn't like poor Widow Mullens to lie listening to the
sound of that old water-wheel, till it took up its parable against the
faithlessness of men in general, and the doctor in particular. I can't
do her much good, poor old soul, but I can at least make her fancy
herself of consequence enough not to be forgotten."

The curate frowned a little--thoughtfully--but said nothing, and
followed his visitor to the door. When he returned, he said,

"I wonder what it is in that man that won't let him believe!"

"Perhaps he will yet, some day," said Juliet, softly.

"He will; he must," answered the curate. "He always reminds me of the
young man who had kept the law, and whom our Lord loved. Surely he must
have been one of the first that came and laid his wealth at the
apostles' feet! May not even that half of the law which Faber tries to
keep, be school-master enough to lead him to Christ?--But come, Miss
Meredith; now for our mathematics!"

Every two or three days the doctor called to see his late patient. She
wanted lookin