“But it is quite impossible—it can’t be, Janet,” broke in Graeme.
“God knows, dear.” Janet said no more. The look on Graeme’s face showed that words would not help her to comprehend the trouble that seemed to be drawing near. She must be left to herself a while, and Janet watched her as she went out over the fallen leaves, and over the bridge to the pine grove beyond, with a longing pity that fain would have borne her trouble for her. But she could not bear it for her—she could not even help her to bear it. She could only pray that whatever the end of their doubt for Marian might be, the elder sister might be made the better and the wiser for the fear that had come to her to-day.
There are some sorrows which the heart refuses to realise or acknowledge, even in knowing them to be drawing near. Possible danger or death to one beloved is one of these; and as Graeme sat in the shadow of the pines shuddering with the pain and terror which Janet’s words had stirred, she was saying it was impossible—it could not be true—it could never, never be true, that her sister was going to die. She tried to realise the possibility, but she could not. When she tried to pray that the terrible dread might be averted, and that they might all be taught to be submissive in God’s hands, whatever His will might be, the words would not come to her. It was, “No, no! no, no! it cannot be,” that went up through the stillness of the pines; the cry of a heart not so much rebellious as incredulous of the possibility of pain so terrible. The darkness fell before she rose to go home again, and when she came into the firelight to the sound of happy voices, Menie’s the most mirthful of them all, her terrors seemed utterly unreasonable, she felt like one waking from a painful dream.
“What could have made Janet frighten herself and me so?” she said, as she spread out her cold hands to the blaze, all the time watching her sister’s bright face.
“Graeme, tea’s over. Where have you been all this time?” asked Rose.
“My father was asking where you were. He wants to see you,” said Will.
“I’ll go ben now,” said Graeme, rising.
The study lamp was on the table unlighted. The minister was sitting in the firelight alone. He did not move when the door opened, until Graeme spoke.
“I’m here, papa. Did you want me?”
“Graeme, come in and sit down. I have something to say to you.”