"What nonsense, darling wife!" he said, gently. "You don't suppose that God would grant a mere foolish, wretched woman the power to curse the innocent of future generations, do you? You don't suppose that He would bring a helpless infant into the world for predestined misery because some half-crazed creature in her blind ignorance uttered a speech that was superinduced perhaps by a grief too great to be borne in silence? Where would be the justice, and mercy, and wisdom of that? And what is your idea of God if not inseparable from those qualities which form His divine attribute?"
"You make me ashamed."
"Not ashamed, love, because you never really believed in it. It was only that the foolish repetition made you anxious. There is no channel without its turning point, dear, no life without its sorrow, and when yours came, you saw in it the curse which that poor, wretched woman uttered, and which others were foolish enough to repeat, that was all. In our love and belief in the goodness of God, we can afford to laugh at such nonsense as that, my darling. Promise me that you will forget it."
She gave the promise with her lips upon his, belief and faith and perfect love casting out fear.
Nevertheless, when her own little one was born, less than two years after, and she was told that it was an exquisite girl, her first question was:
"What is her complexion?"
"As fair as a lily," the nurse replied. "Her eyes are porcelain blue, her hair is like the sun."
And the sweet face upon the pillow flushed with pleasure and relief as she gazed up into the eyes of her husband, and murmured faintly:
"Thank God, Leith, there is no trace of the Indian there!"
THE END.