“Well—why isn’t he here? He’s known about it for over six hours.”
“I shouldn’t think there were any trains running now. It’s not so easy as all that to come from Brighton.”
Rose relapsed into silence. After a time she said—
“Religion is a great consolation at a time like this.”
“Do you think we ought to send for Mr. Williams to come and see Father?” choked Doris.
“No—of course not. What good could he do? Poor Sir John’s quite unconscious.”
“But he may be able to hear. How do you know he can’t? Perhaps he would like to hear Mr. Williams say a prayer or a hymn.”
“My dear Doris, I tell you he doesn’t know a thing, so what’s the good of dragging poor Mr. Williams out of his bed at three o’clock in the morning? I had no patience with the people who did that sort of thing to George. Sir John couldn’t understand anything, and if he did he’d be furious, so it doesn’t seem much good either way. When I said religion was a consolation I was thinking of Mary.”
“And why of me?” asked Mary.
“Well, I often think you’d be happier if you had some sort of religion. You seem to me to lead such an aimless life.”