She spoke with terrible pauses, caused by that hard, labouring breath.
Mother answered, as I knew, from the Word of God.
“‘Yet return again to me,’ saith the Lord.”
“I cannot return. I never came.”
“Then ‘come unto Me, all ye that are weary and laden.’ ‘The Son of Man is come to seek and to save that which was lost.’”
Blanche made no answer. She only lay still, her eyes fixed on Mother, which did essay for to show her by God’s Word that she might yet be saved if she so would. Methought when Mother stayed, and rose to kiss her as she came thence, that surely Blanche could want no more. Her only word to Mother was—
“Thanks.”
Then she beckoned to me, and I came and kissed her. Mother was gone to speak with Mistress Lewthwaite, and Alice withal. Blanche and I were alone.
“Close!” she said: and I bent mine ear to her lips. “Very kind—Lady Lettice. But—too late.”
“O Blanche!” I was beginning: but her thin weak hand on mine arm stayed further speech.