"'In tracing the history of nations,'" she read, "'we discover a threefold purpose——'"
"Kate, dear; oh, beautiful Kate!" cried Molly's heart.
The book seemed full of Kate; all the ancient story sank down into the depths of the paper, and Kate's history and Kate's danger seemed alone to fill the closely written pages. Molly shut up the book, and clasped her hands.
"How I wish Cecil would come to me!" she moaned once or twice.
The little clock on her mantelpiece struck the hour of midnight. The sound was echoed outside by the big cathedral clock, then the chimes rang out. Molly shuddered as she thought of the cathedral, where she had prayed, and of her vow to God. Perhaps God was angry with her for trying to make a sort of compact with him. Oh, what was right? What was the good of prayer? If one could not pray in one's extremity, what was one to do? Molly felt frightened as she remembered her vow. Oh, why did not Cecil come to her? How could she keep her senses, lying there in her little bed, while Kate was perhaps traveling along that valley from which there was no return? Molly wondered, as the night went on, if Kate would be afraid to die, but then she remembered that Kate would know nothing about it until after she was dead. She wondered if she would be frightened then, and how her spirit would feel without her body. She wondered if the old grandfather, who was so good and noble and sweet, would come to meet the girl he loved in the other world, and would lead her gently away up to the throne of God himself. And then she wondered if God would smile at poor Kate, and tell her that he had thought over everything, and saw quite clearly that her life down here would be too full of struggle, and so he had called her early to a happier home.
Here Molly's reflections caused her to burst into bitter sobs. She was sobbing loudly when her room door was suddenly opened, and Cecil came in.
"Oh, Cecil, Cecil! what news!" cried Molly. "Oh, Cecil, how I have longed for you! do tell me quickly what news, what has happened? Cecil, is she—is she dead?"
"No," said Cecil; "no!"
"Oh, come and sit by me, Ceci, and put your arms round me, I am so miserable, and so, so frightened! Come over here; let me feel your touch."