'Dare return! If I be not dead, that will I to-morrow.'
She cried out against such insanity.
'You must not. It is wicked with a foolhardy parade to torment us—your mother.'
'Have no fear, dear. If I come again, it will be with joy, bearing my sheaves.'
She could put an interpretation on his words that loaded her heart.
'Rhoda, dear sister, I owe you much this day, and now I will ask for one thing more.'
She said 'Yes,' though foreboding ordeal. It was a minute before he spoke.
'Will you pray for us?'
Poor heart, how could she? Anything but that.
'What worth are the prayers of such an one as I? Desire rather your mother's prayers.'