should know, and it
must be possible for you to tell me. Say that it is because you cannot
like me well enough--and I shall understand that."

But Lois could not say it; and the pause, which embarrassed her
terribly, had naturally a different effect upon her companion.

"It is _not_ that!" he cried. "Have you been led to believe something
false about me, Lois?--Lois?"

"No," she said, trembling; the pain, and the difficulty of speaking,
and the struggle it cost, set her absolutely to trembling. "No, it is
something _true_." She spoke faintly, but he listened well.

"_True!_ What is it? It is not true. What do you mean, dear?"

The several things which came with the intonations of this last
question overset the remnant of Lois's composure. She burst into tears;
and he was looking, and the moonlight was full in her face, and he
could not but see it.

"I cannot help it," she cried; "and you cannot help it. It is no use to
talk about it. You know--O, you know--you are not a Christian!"

It was almost a cry at last with which she said it; and the usually
self-contained Lois hid her face away from him. Whether the horses
walked or trotted for a little while she did not know; and I think it
was only mechanical, the effort by which their driver kept them at a
foot pace. He waited, however, till Lois dropped her hands again, and
he thought she would attend to him.

"May I ask," he then said, and his voice was curiously clear and
composed,--"if that is your _only_ objection to me?"

"It is enough!" said Lois smotheredly, and noticing at the same time
that ring in his voice.

"You think, one who is a Christian ought never to marry another who is
not a Christian?"

"No!" she said, in the same way, as if catching her breath.

"It is very often done."

She made no reply. This was a most cruel discussion, she thought. Would
they never reach home? And the horses walking! Walking, and shaking
their heads, with soft little peals of the bells, like creatures who
had at last got quiet enough to like walking.

"Is that all, Lois?" he asked again; and the tone of his voice
irritated her.

"There need not be anything more," she answered. "That is enough. It is
a barrier for ever between us; you cannot overcome it--and I cannot. O,
do make the horses go! we shall never get home! and don't talk any
more."

"I will let the horses go presently; but first I must talk a little
more, because there is something that must be said.