When she turned again, the Baroness’s cheeks were wet with tears and she was stretching forth her arms towards her.
“Oh!” she gasped, as Margaret reached her side, “I am a godless woman—I am a godless woman!”
“No! no! my dear friend, we are none of us godless,” replied Margaret, “we may think we are, but God knows better! We may forsake Him, but He never forsakes us! We should never be saved if we waited till we wanted to be so. It is He Who wants us—that is our great safeguard! He wanted our two dear children—not to spite us, but to draw us after them. Try to look at it in that light, and then Bobby’s death will prove your greatest gain.”
“I am a godless woman,” repeated the Baroness, “and this is my punishment!” pointing to the bed. “I loved him best of all! My ’eart is broken!”
“So much the better, if it was a hard heart,” rejoined Margaret, smiling. “Who was it that said, ‘If your heart is broken, give the pieces to Christ and He will mend it again’? Never think of Bobby, dear Madame Gobelli, except as with Christ—walking with Him, talking with Him, learning of Him and growing in grace and the love of God daily! Never disassociate the two memories, and in a little while you would hate yourself if you could separate them again. God bless you! I must go back to my husband now!”
“You will come again?” said the Baroness.
“I am afraid I shall have no time! We sail for India on Saturday, but I shall not forget you. Good-bye, Bobby,” she repeated, with a last look at the corpse, “remember your mother and me in your prayers.”
As Miss Wynward let her out of the Red House, she remarked,
“I could never have believed that anyone could have had so much influence over her ladyship as you have, Mrs. Pullen. I hope you will come again.”
“I shall not be able to do so. But Madame Gobelli will have you to talk to her! You live here altogether, do you not?”