“My father’s eyes,” said Mrs. Deborah, looking at the portrait over the fireplace, “seem to rest upon me to-night.”
Mrs. Esther shuddered.
“It is a sign, sister,” she said, “that something will happen to us.”
Mrs. Deborah laughed a little bitterly. I thought afterwards that the laugh was like that of Sarai, because a thing did happen to her, as will presently be seen.
“Nothing,” she said, “will happen to you and to me any more, Esther, except more pain and more starvation.”
“Patience, Deborah,” sighed Mrs. Esther. “We who have borne our captivity for nine-and-twenty years——”
“And seven months,” said her sister.
“Can surely bear it a little longer.”
“We were girls when we came here,” said Mrs. Deborah; “girls who might have had lovers and become mothers of brave sons—not that you, Kitty, should let your thoughts run on such matters. But there are no honest lovers for honest girls in the Rules of the Fleet.”
“Lovers!” echoed Mrs. Esther, with a heavy sigh. “Mothers! with sons! Ah, no! not for us.”