She returned her purse to her pocket, and looked again at Leslie.
“Are you sure you won’t yield?” she said. “Remember, whatever you do must be done to-day; he is going to decide to-day.”
Leslie struggled with herself.
Just at that moment the door was quickly opened, and Marjorie rushed in. There was a queer look on Marjorie’s face, traces of recent tears in her eyes, and a softness about her mouth. She went up to Leslie and kissed her. She did not see Annie at all.
“Eileen is better,” she cried; “she has had a long, quiet sleep, and the nurse says she is certainly better. The doctors have just gone, too, and they believe that she is on the mend. They think that the worst is over. Leslie, God did hear our prayers. I shall believe in God now as long as ever I live. I wish Belle Acheson would come, in order that I might tell her how God heard our prayers. Yes. I shall believe in Him as long as I live. It was your thought, Leslie; your splendid thought, and it has succeeded. Oh, I am so happy!”
She kissed Leslie again, and ran out of the room as quickly as she had entered. She did not even notice Annie Colchester, who stood near the window.
When Marjorie closed the door behind her. Leslie looked full at Annie.
“What can it all mean?” said Annie. “How queer Marjorie Chetwynd looked!”
“No wonder,” said Leslie. “Her sister Eileen was at death’s door; but she is a little better to-day.”
“Only Marjorie talked some humbug about prayer. Did she imagine that you—you prayed? I thought you were too hard.”