"Thank God for that."
"Thank God. Yes, that is easy to say; but supposing—supposing——"
"I will suppose nothing, dear Cécile. We are asking all the time that the good God will take care of those we love, and He will hear us."
"Holy Virgin, grant He may. Let us go on praying all the time. But you, Gabrielle, for you it is different. A brother——"
"He is my only one."
"So is Jéhan to me, and yet I do not think of him now."
The colour came rosily to Gabrielle's cheeks.
"There is one at Varenac who is more than brother to me," she whispered, plucking at the end of her fichu.
"A—a lover? Oh, Gabrielle, forgive me. I understand. It is the tall Monsieur with the dark face and grey eyes, which can look two things at once. And he——"
"He is at Varenac. Cécile, Cécile, God grant they may all come back in safety. I am afraid."