“This has been a wonderful day for me, Seraphine,” I told her when we came to my room, “the most wonderful day in my whole life.”
“I know, dear,” she answered calmly, as if nothing could surprise her either.
Then I explained everything that had happened—why I had left America so suddenly, why I had felt that I must never see Christopher again.
“But you don't feel that way any more?” she asked me with a look of strange understanding in her deep eyes.
“No,” said I, “everything is changed now. My fears are gone. I see that I must count upon Christopher to have the same faith and courage that I have in my own heart. Why should I expect to bear the whole burden of our future? He must bear his part of it. The responsibility goes with the love, doesn't it? I saw that this afternoon—it came to me like a flash when the procession passed. Isn't it wonderful?”
“Dear child, the working of God's love for His children is always wonderful. This is a place of miracles”—she paused as if searching into my soul—“and the greatest miracle is yet to come.”
I felt the color flooding to my cheeks.
“What do you mean?”
“I must go back a little, Penelope, and tell you something important. You haven't asked about Captain Herrick.”
“Is he—is he well?” I stammered.