“Poor Cousin Bertie,” said Rosamund.
“Il faut prier,” said Mère Pauline. “But you, my child. Will you stay on with us, as one of our lady boarders?”
“If there were some work that I might do—it is so difficult to do nothing.”
“Yes. I will reflect. A good Catholic family life is the atmosphere that I should wish for you at present, poor little one. But I will reflect.”
That Mère Pauline’s reflections were apt to take a practical turn was demonstrated three days later by a letter from Lady Argent begging Rosamund to come to her.
She wrote that she was alone.
So Rosamund went back to the Wye Valley.
“God bless you, my dear child,” said Mrs. Mulholland heartily. “Come back and see us again, and don’t forget that there’s God’s good purpose behind everything, whether we can see it or not.”
“Will there be some sort of definite solution to it all, in time?” Rosamund asked.
She had come to have a curious reliance on Mrs. Mulholland’s opinionative statements.