“Yes, ma’am.”
Miss Galpin gasped. She waited a moment for a torrent of excuse and explanation; but Patience was mute.
“And you are not sorry?” she faltered.
“No, ma’am.”
“Oh, Patience!”
“I’m sorry you feel so badly, ma’am. Please don’t cry,” for the estimable young woman was in tears, and mentally reviling her preceptors.
“How can I help feeling terribly, Patience? You break my heart.”
“I’m sorry, dear Miss Galpin.”
“Patience, don’t you love God?”
“No, ma’am, not particularly. Leastways, I’ve never thought much about it.”