asking about saving their souls, as if their souls were something quite
different from the other part of them; and, Ephraim, I have often wanted
to ask you, but I didn't like to. You don't believe what aunt and uncle
do, do you? Aunt talks as if you didn't believe. Do you think"--her
voice trembled--"do you think that I ought to think about my soul--that
way?"

Ephraim never perceived the nature of her difficulty. He thought she
questioned the earnestness of life. He leaned back against the jamb of
the chimney, vainly trying to dispel his anger and bring his mind under
the command of reason. He looked at Susannah steadily; she was somewhat
pale with weariness and excitement; she could never be other than
beautiful. How perfect was the moulding of the strong firm chin, of the
curving nostrils! The breadth of the cheek bone, the height and breadth
of the brow, beautiful as they were in their pink and white tinting,
conveyed to him almost more strongly the sense of mental completeness
than of outward beauty. He did not dare to look at her questioning
eyes; his glance travelled over the amber ringlets, damp and tossed
just now, drooping as if to say "Susannah is lonely and perplexed, and
she needs your help." Ephraim, proud, and mortified to think how ill he
compared with her, laughed fiercely within himself. This was a young
woman of distinction, and just now she knew it so little that she sat
looking up with respect at his ill-conditioned self. How long would that
last? How long would she remember any word that he chanced to say to
her?

"Susannah, I think you are very ignorant. Were you never taught anything
when you were a little girl?"

"My father and his friends were always polite to me." She spoke with