“Again the Lord has laid his hand on her,” said the old woman solemnly.
Mr. Armour seated himself beside his half-sister, and affectionately drew the rug more closely about her. “Where is Camperdown?” he inquired.
“He’s gone to get some supper for Miss Judy,” and Mammy looked toward the closed doors of Vivienne’s rooms.
She rarely mentioned Vivienne’s name, but Mr. Armour knew by her expression that the two girls were together.
“Tear her out of your heart, my son,” said Mammy Juniper in a sudden vehement whisper. “’Tis not the Lord’s will.”
A terrible gloom and depression overspread the face that he held in his hands as he leaned forward supporting his elbows on his knees.
“Mammy’s boy,” said the old woman affectionately fondling his head. “If thine eye offend thee, pluck it out.”
“Oh this agony of indecision!” he muttered, looking about him as if for help; “if I only knew what is right——”
“Trust Mammy,” said the colored woman persuasively. “She has asked the Lord about it.”
“Hush, old woman!” interposed Camperdown coming up the steps behind her bearing a tray aloft. “Give your counsels of vengeance to the winds, and don’t stir up this family to any more wickedness. Try to soften their hearts, not harden them. And don’t be so sure that you are a messenger of the Lord. I think the devil sometimes tampers with your messages. Stanton, Miss Delavigne is in trouble about Stargarde——”