"Yes, I wish—I little knew"—then suddenly "Marian, I'll tell you something: one morning when you were gone, she had to read a bit of a chapter in the Gospel about the healing the blind man, and you can't think how hard she tried to get through it without breaking down, but she could not. She cried at last, as if she could not help it, and then she got up, and came and kissed me, and I felt her tears on my face. I didn't know what to say, but that's what I like to remember."
"And the Church-going on Christmas day," whispered Marian.
"Ay, she led me up," said Lionel.
"Everything is so very comforting," said Marian.
"So Walter says."
"Lionel, do you remember the print you and Gerald gave me long ago of S. Margaret walking through the dark wood of this world, and subduing the dragon? I am sure she is like it. She had all this world before her, and she chose vexation and trouble instead of doing wrong! O Lionel, it is very noble!"
"That it is," said Lionel, "only things never seem so at the time. I wish they did, but. I am glad my father saw it all right before, and said he was glad she had given him up."
"Yes, that is a comfort."
"My poor father!" said Lionel presently, "I never guessed he cared so much about—things. Do you know, Marian, I think even if I do get back my eyes, I could not go after the Australian bulls, unless 'twas the only way of getting a living."
"I am glad you have put them out of your head," said Marian, smiling sadly.