“It reminded me of the time I found you sleeping among all the noises that were going on in the ward. There was talking and groaning and moving about, and you were quite unconscious of it all.
“‘God makes a silence through them all,’”
she repeated:
“‘And never doleful dream again
Shall break his blessed slumbers, when
He giveth His beloved sleep.’”
There was a silence of several minutes, and then Christie said:
“Miss Gertrude, when you came in I was telling Effie that I thought you had changed since I first knew you.”
“And were you telling her that there was much need of a change?” said Miss Gertrude, with a playfulness assumed to hide the quick rush of feeling which the words called forth.
“Do you mind how we used to speak of the great change that all must meet before we can be happy or safe? You don’t think about these things as you used to do. Miss Gertrude, has this change come to you?”
“I don’t know, Christie. Sometimes I almost hope it has,” said she. But she could not restrain the tears. Effie saw them; Christie did not. Her eyes were closed, and her hands were clasped as if in prayer.
“I was sure it would come,” she said, softly. “I am very glad.”