“But you are not sorry that you took her into your house?”
“Far from that! She has been a blessing in our house, as doubtless she would be in yours should she go with you.”
“There is no doubt but it would be to her advantage to go with you. And we could not prevent her if she wished to go when her year with us is at an end,” said Mr Hume.
“Yes, it would be better for her to go. We ought not to hinder her,” said his wife; but they looked at one another, thinking of Marjorie.
“I thank you both gratefully for your kindness in being willing to spare her to me,” said Mrs Esselmont. “But that is only the beginning of my petition. The child Marjorie! Would it break your heart to part with her for a while? Wait, let me say a word more before you refuse to hear me. The child is evidently growing stronger as she grows older. Allison has helped her, but there is more in the change than that. I am certain—at least I have hope—that she might be helped by one who has been proved to have skill in dealing with such cases. Let me take Marjorie to Dr Thorne in London. He is a great physician and a good man. He is my friend, and I know that whatever can be done for the child he can do, and will be happy in doing it. Think of your gentle, little darling grown strong and well, with a useful and happy life before her!”
A rush of tears came to the eyes of Mrs Hume. The minister went to the window and looked long on the swaying branches of the firs, which were only just visible through the mist and the rain. Mrs Esselmont laid herself back on her pillow and waited.
“Well?” said she after a little.
“Well, mother?” said the minister, sitting down again.
“Speak for us both,” said his wife.
“Well,” said he, after a pause, “I have only this to say to-night. We thank you for your kind thoughts for the child. We desire to say yes, we long to say it. But it is a great thing to decide, and we must ask counsel.”