But Mrs. Cultus’ spiritual discernment had been quickened; and with it came the real, true conquest over both physical weakness and mental vagaries. Her eyes opened again, they were clearer than ever; her voice had a new depth, and was certainly more sympathetic than before the fever began—it manifested the spiritually melodious quality in essence.
“What about Adele?” asked Miss Winchester tenderly.
“Oh! I love her so much! She is so much to me; I cannot tell you how much.”
“We all love her,” said Miss Winchester, innocently repeating the very words Adele had used when speaking of her mother.
“Yes, I know that, too; no one knows it better than I; but I now see something about her I never saw before so clearly.”
“Tell me what it is.”
“Frank!—a mystery! Adele is prepared. She is ready for anything that may happen. None of us need ever fear for Adele, I’m sure of that; and I can see that she acts as she does because she feels prepared. I must tell you about her; it is a mystery, yet at the same time the most practical thing.”
All the positive elements in Mrs. Cultus now seemed focused on the conviction that Adele was “prepared,” as she called it, for anything, any emergency.
“She has many to look to,” said Miss Winchester, “more than most girls.”
“Yes, but I’m not thinking of that. I mean her own strength, something within herself, something I suppose all girls could have if they were like Adele. I’m beginning now to understand that—beginning to understand a little of how she acts and why she does as she does. Adele could endure and overcome adversity; she enjoys pleasure, more than any of us; she lives what she believes, and is not afraid of anything. Do you notice it, Frank, Adele is never afraid?”