"Yes, it's in Isaiah," returned the girl, her eyes on the paper. "I tore it off Mrs. Porter's calendar. It's a calendar of promises. What's the use of promises made thousands of years ago?"
Her breath caught in her throat.
"Mrs. Porter is very fond of you, Linda," ventured Miss Barry.
The girl nodded. She seemed to see the soft light in her teacher's eyes. The calendar message would probably find response in her optimism.
"We took a course in the Bible at school," she went on. "We had to; but Mrs. Porter says she reads it because she likes to. I gave her this calendar as a kind of a joke."
Miss Barry made no comment on the dreary irreverence.
"I haven't told you," she replied, "that Mrs. Porter is keeping house in my cottage."
The girl turned her slow regard upon the speaker.
"When the right time comes," went on Miss Barry, "I want you should go back with me, Linda."
"I wish to stay here," returned the girl quickly, "and, Aunt Belinda, I don't want you to wait. I know you must long to get home, and there's nothing, really nothing, for you to wait for here. All I wish is to be quiet and just stay where—" her throat closed. She glanced once more at the calendar leaf, and started to drop it in the basket, but changed her mind and put it back in the open drawer.