She charged the nurse with
ruining the minister's work, with alienating him from his people, with
injuring the Memorial Church and the cause of Christ in Corinth, with
making him the talk of the town.
"What is he to you," she finished. "What can he ever be to you? You
would not dare to think of marrying a minister of the gospel--you a woman
of the world. He belongs to us, he does not belong to you, and you have
no right to take him from us." Then she pleaded with her to--as she put
it--let their pastor alone, to permit him to stay in Corinth and go on to
the great future that she was so sure awaited him.
As the girl talked the other woman sat very still with downcast face,
save now and then when Charity's disordered words seemed to carry a
deeper meaning than appeared upon the surface. Then the gray eyes were
lifted to study the speaker's face, doubtfully, wonderingly,
questioningly.
In her painful excitement Charity was telling much more than she
realized. And more, Charity was not only laying bare her own heart to
the nurse, but she was revealing Hope Farwell to herself. That young
woman was stirred as she had never been before.
When her visitor had talked herself out the nurse said quietly, "Miss
Jordan, it is not at all necessary that I should reply to the things
you have said, but you must answer me one question. Has Mr. Matthews
ever, either by word or by his manner towards you, given you reason
to feel that you, personally, have any right whatever to say these
things to me?"
It was so frank, so direct, and withal so womanly and kind, and so
unexpected--that Charity hung her head.
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