“Self-sacrifice and renunciation are ever pleasing to God,” he told her simply. “He knows that whatever else there is in a heart, with self-sacrifice there is also purity and nobility.”
“If I thought I alone need bear the consequences, I think I could do anything,” she whispered—“bear anything, renounce anything.”
Again the quiet soothing of a prayer fell on her ears. She listened, and heard the old priest praying God and the Holy Virgin to help her to find the courage for the sacrifice her heart called for, that if she were about to enter the presence of the Most High, she might take with her the cleansing of repentance and a self-sacrificing spirit.
She lay still for some little time listening to the soft cadence of his voice, and then she opened her eyes and looked at him with a full, sweet look.
“I will do it, Father,” she said to him. “Perhaps, if God understands everything, He will let my anguish of renunciation absolve that other from all sin. It is the most I have to ask of all the powers in heaven and earth.”
“The Holy Mother comfort you, my child,” he said; and with an earnest benediction left her.
Then Lorraine motioned to the French nurse that she wanted her, and gathering all her remaining strength asked for a telegraph form and pencil. The nurse supported her in her arms, while with a trembling hand she traced faintly the words of her message. It ran:
“Marked change for the better. No need for haste. Come in a few days.—LORRAINE.”
It was addressed to Alymer Hermon, at The Middle Temple.
“Please take it now at once,” she said. She knew that the Frenchwoman could not read English, and that Jean was not yet awake.