Louis was silent.
“Oh, please do go for my sake,” I entreated. “Let papa—”
“No,” hoarsely. “I couldn’t talk to any one but you. I was wild to see you. I wanted to know what you thought—if I was past redemption—”
“No, you are not. You do not understand how some of these very faults may be transformed into virtues. Is it not braver to struggle than to give up like a coward in despair.”
“I never was cowardly.”
“Prove your bravery by going to Stephen. Start anew. God will give you strength and grace. I know you can succeed.”
He glanced at me long and earnestly. There was a strange wistfulness in his face that touched me.
“Promise!” I took his cold hand in mine.
“No, I cannot—quite. I must think of it. And I must go, also, I have kept you too long in the cold.”
“But where are you going?”