"To the city, you know, with Doctor Conrad. I want to begin to see."
Barbara patted his hand. "When I am strong enough to spare you," she said, "I will let you go. When you see me, I want to be well and able to go to meet you without crutches. Will you wait until then?"
"I want to see my baby. I do not care about the crutches, now that you are to get well. I want to see you, dear, so very, very much."
"Some day, Daddy," she promised him. "Wait until I'm almost well, won't you?"
"Just as you say, dear, but it seems so long."
"I couldn't spare you now, Daddy. I want you with me every day."
Miriam's Prayer
Though long unused to prayer, Miriam prayed that night, very earnestly, that Ambrose North might not recover his sight; that he might never see the daughter who lived and spoke in the likeness of her dead mother. It was long past midnight when she fell asleep. The house had been quiet for several hours.
As she slept, she dreamed. The door opened quietly, yet with a certain authority, and Constance, in her grave-clothes, came into her room. The white gown trailed behind her as she walked, and the two golden braids, so like Barbara's, hung down over either shoulder and far below her waist.