"Amen!" said the young man, in a low voice.
"Now, aunt, let us go to this poor woman—observe how earnestly she is watching us."
The aunt and nephew had stepped aside as their conversation became personal; and old Mrs. Warren had been eagerly regarding them all the time. They were the only friends she had on earth. To her broken spirit, they seemed to hold the power of life and death over the beings she loved so devotedly. Robert had promised that she should see her husband and her grandchild; the heart-stricken woman asked for nothing more. She never, for an instant, questioned his power, but sat with her eyes turned reverently upon his fine person and noble features, as if he had been an angel empowered to unlock the gates of heaven for her.
Robert and his aunt approached her as their conference ended, and the young man took out his watch.
"Is it time? Would they let me in now?" questioned the poor woman, half rising as she saw the movement.
"Are you strong enough?" he answered, observing that she trembled.
"Oh, yes! I am strong—very strong. Let us go!"
With her thin, eager hands, she folded the shawl over her bosom and stood up, strong in her womanly affections, in her Christian humility, but oh, how weak every way else!
Mrs. Gray folded herself in an ample blanket shawl, and tying on her bonnet, led the way out of the market, forgetting for the first time in her life, that her stall was unattended.