“Come, you must quite believe in me,” she said. “Give me your hand, dear Christopher, and tell me that you take this meddling, commanding old woman to be your friend.”
He had no words as he took the hand she gave him, but from his look it might have been as if he at last received into his keeping the great gift, the precious casket of the future; and his eyes, like those of a devout young knight, dedicated themselves to her service.
It was again gift and miracle; and though in her mind was the thought of all her mournings, and of the lost Jane Amoret, she felt, rooting itself in the darkness and sorrow, yet another flower.
“And now,” she said, for they must not both begin to cry, “please ring the bell for me. The time has not quite come for your first visit; but, before you go, we will have our first tea together.”
HEPATICAS
I
