"If we were only all saints," Lawrence put in.
"Why are not we?"
"I don't know. I suppose everybody is not cut out for such a vocation."
"Everybody ought to be a saint."
"Do you mean that?" cried Rupert. "I thought,—I mean, I thought it was a special gift."
"Yes," said Dolly with a smile at him; "but God gives it to every one that wants it. And when the King comes, Mr. St. Leger, He will gather His saints to Him, and none others; don't yon want to be counted among them then?—I do!"
I don't know what had wrought up Dolly to this sudden burst; but she dropped her veil upon eyes all alight, while some soft dripping tears were falling from them like diamonds. Every one knows the peculiar brilliancy of a sunlit shower; and the two young men remained fairly dazzled. Rupert, however, looked very grave, while the other wore a cloud on his brow.
Dolly was as matter-of-fact as possible when she came out from under her veil again; and declared she should not go to a hotel in Dresden, but take a lodging.
"Why?" Lawrence enquired.
"Cheaper. And pleasanter. And much quieter. We shall probably have to stay several days in Dresden. We must get letters there."