The contrast between the
old and the new made itself instantly felt. On one hand was the simple
and logical; on the other the complex and dogmatic. The Christian was
able to measure proportionately how much should be laid upon her mind
for study at once and while she still waited, he rose from his place.
"There is more; yet there are other days," he said.
But she caught his hand as he rose and with a sudden yearning in her
eyes whispered:
"O Rabbi, what said He of love?"
"Love?" he repeated, with a softening about his lips. "The Master
blessed love between man and woman."
"But, but--" she faltered, "if one love another than one's wedded
spouse, then what?"
His face grew grave.
"That is not lawful even among you, who are still of the old faith."
"But suppose--"
He laid a kindly hand on the one that held his.
"Suffer but sin not. He that endureth unto the end shall be saved."
"What end?"
"Death."
She was silent while she gazed at him with change showing on her
gradually paling face.
"Then--then what is in thy faith for the forlorn in love?" she
exclaimed.
"Peace, and the consciousness of the joy of Christ in your
steadfastness," he said.
She rose. How much longer had she to live?
"And thou sayest we die?"
"_Fear not them which kill the body, but are not able to kill the
soul_," he said gently.
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