"Pooh! a pretty story!" said Elsie. "We are two lone women, and the times are unsettled; there are robbers and loose fellows about, and we want a protector."
"And is not the good Lord our protector?—has He not always kept us, grandmother?" said Agnes.
"Oh, that's well enough to say, but folks can't always get along so; it's far better trusting the Lord with a good strong man about,—like Antonio, for instance. I should like to see the man that would dare be uncivil to his wife. But go your ways; it's no use toiling away one's life for children, who, after all, won't turn their little finger for you."
"Now, dear grandmother," said Agnes, "have I not said I would do everything for you, and work hard for you? Ask me to do anything else in the world, grandmamma; I will do anything to make you happy, except marry this man,—that I cannot."
"And that is the only thing I want you to do. Well, I suppose I may as well lock up these things; I see my gifts are not cared for."
And the old soul turned and went in quite testily, leaving Agnes with a grieved heart, sitting still by her uncle.
"Never weep, little one," said the kind old monk, when he saw the silent tears falling one after another; "your grandmother loves you, after all, and will come out of this, if we are quiet."
"This is such a beautiful world," said Agnes, "who would think it would be such a hard one to live in?—such battles and conflicts as people have here!"
"You say well, little heart; but great is the glory to be revealed; so let us have courage."
"Dear uncle, have you heard any ill-tidings of late?" asked Agnes. "I noticed this morning you were cast down, and to-night you look so tired and sad."