But ere Harry could answer her question, the door opened, and Lewis, followed by Miss Vernon, reentered.
And in a few minutes, Harry Lascelles' farewell words were spoken to all three. And imprinting a kiss on the forehead of his little, sleeping god-daughter, he said, "Of such is the kingdom of God."
Then turning to Austin, who stood near him, he said (as if in allusion to something they had talked of before), "We must all help on the kingdom of God, not only by doing great things, but also little ones." And with these words he was off, to do the work of life appointed to him in scenes far distant from the quiet vicarage where he had been brought up.
Priscilla stood a minute or so still with the infant in her arms, a stunned feeling in her heart. She had heard Harry's farewell words in a sort of stupor, and hardly yet realized that her kind, cheery friend's good-bye had been really said, and that years might elapse ere he would be again at home.
Miss Vernon's voice aroused her.
"Give me baby, Priscilla," she said kindly. "You look tired. Had you not better rest a bit before church time?"
"Oh, I'm not tired," was the reply. "I can take baby to the nursery myself. I'll join you all before you set out for church;" and so saying she left the room.
Her heart was full, but not a tear fell till she was alone; then it seemed as if her very heart would break with the feeling of desolation and misery that overwhelmed her. Would life, she asked herself, be always like this—one great sorrow, with none to love or help her? The only voice that answered her question was that of conscience, and she tried not to listen to it; but she caught the words—"Are you going the right way to win love, or are you not rather repelling it? God has given you plenty of work to do to deaden the sense of desolation; and are you not putting it from you and preferring your own work?"
No wonder that downstairs Miss Vernon was chafing at the coldness of the girl to whom she was at least desirous of acting kindly; whilst the boys were heard to mutter that Prissy was as changed as she could be, and never cared to please any one now.
The same spirit of discontent and weariness pervaded the household all the rest of the day. More than ever the gentle mother was missed then; and not without a pang of compunction did Prissy hear Lewis, as he kicked off his boots ere going to bed, mutter that the day of little Ruth's baptism might truly be called the "Black Sunday."