"Take care that Hermione has her rights!" This command came up next. One thought after another floated through Julia's mind, while her whole attention seemed to be bent upon the present emergency and upon her husband's condition.
Hermione's rights! But what rights? Harvey had plainly declared to his wife that Hermione had no rights, that he was in no sense bound. What did he mean by Hermione's "rights"? And how was Julia to reconcile his two utterances?
"What doth the Lord require of thee, but to do justly, and to love mercy, and to walk humbly with thy God?"
Julia's whole being cried out at this, "Have we 'done justly' towards Hermione?" She did not say, "Has Harvey?" though in truth the responsibility was his, not hers; but she linked herself with him, she felt that she might perhaps have said more, have used stronger influence, and tears came streaming at the thought. If Harvey were in danger, if he were to die, and if indeed he had allowed himself to do not justly, how should she ever forgive herself? She could not get over those few strong words, "Take care that Hermione has her rights!"
"Aunt Julia—why don't you tell Jesus?"
It was curious how this simple little question of Mittie's flashed into Julia's mind. For she was so helpless, so direfully in need, so terror-stricken with her own position and her husband's peril. There seemed to be absolutely nothing that she could do. The one thing which she might do she had scarcely remembered. Here it was, briefly and childishly stated, but holding a mighty truth for all that. Why should she not "tell Jesus"?
Julia did not hesitate. She bent her face into her hands, and sobbed out a prayer. No words were audible, but the passionate appeal went up through those heart-rending sobs.
"Julia!" The hollow voice startled her, "Don't cry. It's no use."
She dashed away her tears in a moment.
"Yea," she whispered.