‘Please, Genevieve, I would rather stay with you.’
Genevieve looked out again across the landscape, lit here and there now by twinkling lights, reflected from the happy firesides, till it was too dark any longer to see aught but the ghostly shadows.
‘Lucrece!’ she exclaimed suddenly, ‘come here.’
The child hesitated for a moment, and obeyed, taking her sister’s cold damp hand in her own, and waiting for her to speak.
‘Do you remember, Lucrece, the Golden City I used to tell you about when you were a little one, the blessed place far away, where there is no strife and no care, and every heart can rest?’
‘Yes, I remember, sister.’
‘And should you care to go with me?’
‘O yes, please. I would go anywhere with you and not be afraid.’
‘Then you shall go. When you go to your room to-night, do not take off your clothes, but lie awake till I come for you. Only, mind, if you say a word of this, you will not see the beautiful city.’
Through the rest of the hours, Genevieve moved about mechanically, getting through the evening meal she scarcely knew how. Gradually time passed on, one by one the members of the household retired. It was an hour later when Genevieve entered her little sister’s room. ‘Lucrece, are you awake?’ she whispered.