"Say rather 'I will never be anything more to him!'"
"Ah, and even if I would!" she cried, "I am so wretched!"
"He who will not do a thing willingly and gladly would do better to leave it undone, and he who cares not to pray, should not fold his hands." And Aunt Rosa turned away to the window, sat down in her easy chair and took up her prayer-book. She left Gertrude to herself and read her morning chapter half aloud.
The words struck the ear of the struggling girl with a wonderful force.
"Though I speak with the tongues of men and of angels and have not charity--" sounded through the room.
"Charity suffereth long and is kind; beareth all things, believeth all things, hopeth all things, endureth all things."
Had she no charity then, no true love? Ah, faith--love--how should they remain when one has been so cruelly deceived! And her house came back to her mind, that sad, lonely house on the edge of the wood, and her life in the last few weeks, so frightfully bare and desolate.
And--"charity beareth all things--" it said.
"Amen!" said Aunt Rosa, aloud. And Adelaide came in, and the young wife suddenly felt her hands drawn down and through her tears she saw Adelaide, smilingly unlocking the bunch of keys from her own belt and holding it out to her.
"I kept things in order as well as I knew how," she said, "it is not in the most perfect order I know, but you must not scold me."