“Thou comest as one that is ever dear to me. Since thou didst first take me on thy knee thou hast shared with my father all the earthly love of my heart. Have I not often told thee so?”
“Thou didst never think of me as nearer to thine own age than thy father? Do I always appear so old to thee?”
“Truly, thou dost seem like my father.” In her voice was an infinite tenderness, and the school-master, with a tremor in his voice, answered:
“And yet I am but fifteen years thy senior.”
“But thou lovest me as if I were thy daughter. I have always felt that thou didst give me something more than the neighborly regard in which all the people of Zanah hold one another.”
Gerson Brandt made no answer.
“Thou dost love me as if I were thy daughter?” she repeated.
“Thou hast forever a place in the sanctuary of my heart, Walda.”
The school-master and the prophetess of Zanah looked into each other’s eyes for a brief moment.
“Then I know that thou wilt always pray for me—that thou wilt always keep me safe from all worldly temptations.”