“They are in her room now,” said Marjorie. She clutched hold of Leslie still tighter.
“Oh, Leslie, what should I do if you were not with me? You know she is my twin; no one was ever quite so near to me. We think the same, we do everything the same. All our pursuits, all our desires, are the same. I cannot live without her. If she dies I shall die.”
“But she shall not die, dear!”
“Oh, I know, but she is in such terrible danger now. You said, Leslie, that if it were good for her, God would spare her.”
“And He will, Marjorie; cannot you try to understand? If it is best for her to go to God, He will not leave her in the world just because you selfishly wish it. But it may be best for her to stay here; she may have much to do yet in her life on earth.”
“If she is spared I shall become religious at once,” said Marjorie.
Leslie could not help smiling.
“Were you not religious before?” she asked.
“Oh, after a fashion, but never the real thing. Eileen and I both professed a little, and Eileen, the darling, was, I believe, in earnest; but I don’t think I ever was. I wanted, of course, to lead a useful life, and I thought myself very much better than mother or Mrs. Acheson. I believe now that I was selfish about mother; perhaps we both were, even darling Eileen; but, you know, she always did what I did. I was the first to suggest a thing, and then Eileen followed suit. If we were selfish she was not to blame. Leslie, Leslie, the doctors are coming downstairs. I wonder if they will tell us anything? I know mother won’t for a long, long time.”
“I’ll go and ask, then,” said Leslie, jumping up. She went to the door, opened it, and stepped on to the landing.