Just as she used to do when she was a child, she covered her face and shrank down on to the ground.
'But it is so hard to do one's duty—so hard.'
'Oh child,' I answered, from my heart, 'it is hard, but God is good.'
Then I tried to plead Cuthbert's cause, and to tell her how the remembrance of her had been the one thing he clung to through his dark days of imprisonment and pain—the one thing, failing which he would have been glad, for very weariness, to lie down and die.
'If we have failed him—you and I—in these years that he has trusted us—and in my heart I know that I have failed in deed, if not in will—oh Hildred, it is not too late yet. We have time, and Cuthbert trusts us still.'
'You never think of anyone but Cuthbert,' said Hildred, impatiently, unknowing how cruel her words sounded.
'I think of you too, Hildred,' I answered, very sadly. 'I am very sorry for you both.'
'Would Cuthbert mind so very much,' asked Hildred, 'if he knew how long it was before we gave him up?'
'You will never tell him you forgot him,' I said, in terror.
She was silent.