“Art thou strong enough to let Stephen Everett go back into the world without thee?” he questioned.
“I have prayed for fortitude. I have found courage to think of living on here without him,” she replied. “I have seen myself an old woman of Zanah who goes her way dreaming still of the love of her youth.”
“Thou knowest that I would watch o’er thee,” said the school-master.
“Yea; but thy brotherly compassion hath not the sustaining power of love.”
“Thou knowest not what sustaining power brotherly compassion may reveal.”
Gerson Brandt’s voice betrayed suppressed emotion, and, looking up, Walda saw that his face had become suddenly old and drawn.
“I have pained thee by my seeming ingratitude for all thy kindnesses,” she said, putting her hand on his arm. The school-master’s face flushed, for her touch made his heart throb.
The tempter’s voice spoke insistently.
“Shall I send Stephen Everett away?” Walda asked, after a brief pause. “Direct me aright. Help me to do what my father would have me do.”
Gerson Brandt did not answer.