"Are you turning your back upon the problem of your old friend, Mr. Thayer?"
"No," he answered; "but I thought we had solved it, in this very room."
She raised her brows interrogatively.
"'To say our prayers, and wait,'" he quoted.
Her momentary distrust of him weakened, and her face lighted, as she heard him quoting her own words, spoken so long ago.
"Yes; but I—we all—think it is time—think it may be a mistake."
He lifted his eyes from the fire, looked at her steadily for a minute, and then stared into the fire again. She grew restless with the stillness.
"And we thought perhaps you could say something."
"To—?" he asked, without raising his eyes.
"To Mr. Lorimer."