His commendation brought a new flush to her cheeks.
"I want to be still more helpful," she said. "Tell me what else to do."
He might have urged her, then, to accept his religion. The way was open for such an appeal, but he did not make it. It did not seem to him that the time was yet ripe. He simply replied:
"You are more than kind. There is little that any one can do. It is a matter now for the bishop."
"So Barry Malleson told me. He is very much concerned about you."
"He has been very faithful. While not believing fully in my theories he has, nevertheless, believed fully in me, and has stood up valiantly in my defense. I believe I am indebted to you for that, Mrs. Bradley. I am told that it was you who converted him to my cause. In fact he has told me so himself."
"He flatters me."
"He admires you. And it is not a long road which leads from admiration to love."
"Why do you say that, Mr. Farrar?"
"Because I want to bring you two together. Because such a friendship would be a practical exemplification of the doctrine I have been preaching."
"Mr. Farrar, my widowhood has been very recent."
"Pardon me if I have trespassed! In considering eternal verities I had forgotten temporal misfortunes."
"And I shall not marry again."
"Do not say that, Mrs. Bradley. You have, Providence permitting, many years to live. It is not quite meet that you should pass them in loneliness."
"To marry, one must first love."
"That's very true."
"And I—I must love—blindly!"
She brought out the word with desperate, yearning emphasis.
"And may you not love blindly?" he asked.
