What was to be done?
May did her best to put her thoughts into the plainest, simplest words. She had to begin at the beginning, and speak as to a child. As she went on May discovered that one thing, and one thing only, really impressed Gwen, and that was the idea of courage. Coward as she was, she did grasp that courage was of real value. Gwen had a faint gleam of the meaning of honour, when it was a question of courage, and upon this one string May played, for it gave a clear note, striking into the silence of the poor girl's moral nature.
She got the girl to promise that she would try and take the misfortune of her youth with courage and meet the future bravely. She even induced Gwendolen then and there to pray for more courage, moral and physical, and she did not leave her till she had added also a prayer for help in the future when difficulties and temptations were in her path. They were vague words, "difficulties and temptations," and May knew that, but it is not possible in half an hour to straighten the muddle of many years of Belinda and Co.
"Have courage," she said at last, "I must go, Gwen. Good-night," and May stooped down to kiss the dark head on the pillow. "God protect you; God help you!"
"Good-night," sighed Gwen; "I'll try and go to sleep. But could you—could you put that umbrella into the wardrobe and poke up the fire again to make a little light?"
And May put the umbrella away in the wardrobe and poked up the fire.