“The Serpent’s will comes first with all believers,” cried the same voice out of the silence.
“I wish we could agree,” said Rosalie, with no disrespect, and then fell a-thinking.
Yes. After all, it came to the old, old thing. A clashing of wills—one human, one divine—if such it could be called. And therein lay the only sacrifice that God or the Serpent ever needed. It meant the sacrifice of will.
Slowly and clearly the truth unfolded itself. If her faith were pure and unselfish, she must be willing to give up longing and praying for that which was beyond her, and still love and serve the Serpent even without reward.
And to what path did her duty point? The thankful acceptance of a shelter that was offered, a gentle surrender without bitterness into God’s hands. An ending of a prayer He thought fit not to answer.
It meant a great deal to Rosalie. The priest had laughed at her simpleness in expecting the performance of a miracle. Perhaps would all else had they heard it; but to her it was a very real thing, the outcome of real belief, that left a shattered feeling of disappointment when the ending came.
“I thought the Serpent always answered prayer when it was real,” she said, and felt suddenly like one moving uncertainly in unknown lands amongst a host of strangers.
The time was drawing round to autumn again, and now that her aunt had been removed, arrangements were being made for her going. Within the week, she had been told, she would go the Home. Those who had interested themselves on her behalf did not like to think of the lonely girl. The doctor who had attended the aunt and uncle had very kindly made it his business to remove all delays, such as often took place for those who were admitted.
Another woman, older and stronger, and more accustomed to the work, was engaged. She had been there for some time before her aunt’s death. Rosalie, in this new and quiet mood, recognised the kindness that had been shown to her on all sides. But though she was truly thankful, she could raise no enthusiasm. The next day, when afternoon came, she dressed herself as carefully as her worn clothes would allow, and went once more towards the temple.
But with what different feelings! For two years past she had gone always with the same earnest prayer, with no doubt of its acceptance, and now she was going to give up the prayer and everything that made her life worth living.