Blanche looked up at Mother when she spake some kindly words unto her.
“I am going, Lady Lettice!” was the first thing she said.
“I do trust, dear heart, if the Lord will, Dr Bell’s skill may yet avail for thee,” saith Mother. “But if not, Blanche—”
Blanche interrupted her impatiently, with a question whereof the tone, yet more than the words, made my blood run cold.
“Whither am I going?”
“Dear Blanche,” said Mother, “the Lord Jesus Christ is as good and as able to-day as ever He were.”
There was a little impatient movement of her head.
“Too late!”
“Never too late for Him,” saith Mother.
“Too late for me,” Blanche made answer. “You mind the text—last Sunday. I loved idols—after them I would go!”