'Tis a good thing to have a will,' said Patty from her pillows, 'so long as it don't get above the Lord's will.'
'That it couldn't never do,' quickly returned Deb; 'for God Almighty can snap a body's will like dry twigs, and He be our Master. 'Tis a blasphemous thing to try to get the better o' our Maker; and Miss Gwen's will be not that sort.'
'I think it has been,' said Gwen, sitting down and softly stroking one of Patty's withered old hands. 'I thought I could manage my life and everybody else's independent of God, and He has shown me my mistake. It has been a bitter lesson, but I hope I have learnt it.'
There was silence. Something in the simplicity and quaintness of this old couple always drew out Gwen's best feelings, and she spoke to them of things she would never mention to any one else.
'We've heerd say,' said Deb, after a pause, 'that all you young ladies have lost your money. But that, may be, is only a tale.'
'Very close to truth,' said Gwen; 'and my earnest desire is to earn as much money as possible. Can you tell me how to do it?'
'Young ladies set about such things different to us,' said Deb, thoughtfully.
Patty looked up quickly.
'If so be that this is my last sickness, you'll not be long after me, Deb, I'm thinkin', and then what about the golden russet? Will Miss Gwen like to have the use o' it?'
Gwen thought her mind was wandering, until she saw how fearfully Deb looked round the room, as if afraid any neighbour might be within hearing.