"To save you from what?" asked Mrs. Walker shortly.
"I don't know. I can't say," Lesbia spoke more to herself than to her visitor. "But I feel sure that George wrote this letter as I wrote my first one to him. I wrote to save him, and now he refuses to renew our engagement to save me. I don't understand, still--oh I am sure that everything will come right. I trust in God."
"You do well to do so," said Mrs. Walker gravely, "for only He can help you, my child. I am thoroughly puzzled, and know not what to say."
"Say nothing: do nothing," cried Lesbia eagerly. "Things will work out to a happy end in their due time."
"You are sure of that?"
"I am certain."
"Then," said Mrs. Walker grimly, "you must have a sixth sense which I do not possess. However, I am glad that you have not given way to hysteria. You are a brave girl, and I would rather have you for my daughter-in-law than I would any one else, in spite of your father. There," Mrs. Walker bent forward and actually kissed the girl's lips. "That shows I mean what I say."
"Oh!" Lesbia returned the kiss, blushing divinely, "George said that you hated me, and----"
"How could I hate a girl I had never seen?" snapped Mrs. Walker, ashamed of her momentary humanity. "I hate your father, and--well there, say no more about the matter. I hope with all my heart that things will turn out well for you and George, as you appear to think they will. Meanwhile while we are waiting for your father, tell me about the amethyst cross."
Lesbia started to her feet in astonishment. "The cross," she echoed. "I have lost it. You know that I gave it to----"