“That’s not much to promise,” commented Temperance.
“It is enough,” said Lady Louvaine, quietly.
An hour later, when Aubrey was gone, Faith asked rather complainingly what had induced Lady Louvaine to limit the promise to a month.
“I cannot tell thee, Faith,” was the answer. “Something seemed to whisper within me that if the lad would promise that, he would be safe. It may be no more than an old woman’s fantasy; and even so, no harm is done. Or it might be that God spake to me—and if thus, let us obey His voice. He knows what He will do, and what men will do.”
“I’ve as great a mind as ever I had to eat—”
“What to do, Temperance?”
“Get to see those fellows, somehow.”
“Wait the month, Temperance,” suggested Edith, quietly.
“Wait! you’re always for waiting. I want to work.”
“Waiting is often the hardest work,” said Edith.