“Will you stay here—take care of Genie—until her uncle comes back?” queried the woman, with her low, panting breaths.
“I promised you. But I think you should not want me to keep her here too long,” replied Adam, earnestly. “Suppose he does not come back in a year or two?”
“Ah! I hadn’t thought of that. What, then, is your idea?”
“Well, I’d wait here a good long time,” said Adam, soberly. “Then if Genie’s uncle didn’t come, I’d find a home for her.”
“A home—for Genie!... Wansfell, have you considered? That would take money—to travel—to buy Genie—what she ought to—have.”
“Yes, I suppose so. That part need not worry you. I have money. I’ll look out for Genie. I’ll find a home for her.”
“You’d do—all that?” whispered the woman.
“I promise you. Now, Mrs. Linwood, please don’t distress yourself. It’ll be all right.”
“It is all right. I’m not—in distress,” she replied, with something tremulous and new in her voice. “Oh, thank God—my faith—never failed!”
Adam was not sure what she meant by this, but as he revolved it in his mind, hearing again the strange ring of joy which had been in her voice, he began to feel that somehow he represented a fulfillment and a reward to her.