“Thee is right, Ann! Thee is a better Quaker than I am. Thee adheres to the precepts and does not forget them when they are of use. There is much hope in what thee says.”
“And—and—John—just think of our lovely Marian—Mary Ann—leaving us! It is not to be thought of, is it? I know thee feels as strongly about that as I do. And that poor, misguided young man—”
For she had seen them coming, with fearful faces, for their forgiveness, and he had not.
They were almost at the door now.
“Is it all agreed, John?” she cried.
“Yes,” said John, “it is all agreed. Thee is a better Quaker than I am.”
And that is why they received a welcome which was more hard to bear than the one they expected.
“Now if thee were only one of us,” sighed John Estover to John Rem, as he held his two hands, and liked him at once for a certain big way he had with him.
“What do you mean?” asked the younger man. “I hope that having forgiven us, you will not stop halfway.”
“Ah, yes, that. Look to Ann for that! But if thee was a Friend, we might reclaim thee—”