"`For the eyes of the Lord are over the righteous, and His ears are open
unto their prayers. But the face of the Lord is against them that do
evil.
"`And who is he that will harm you, if ye be followers of that which is
good?'"
Selina's face grew bright as she listened.
"Fred, love, why should we be afraid? It is wrong to be afraid."
"Well," said Frederica, with a long breath, "I will not be afraid. I
think I am more angry than afraid."
"But anger will not help us. Read what you read yesterday," said
Selina.
Frederica read on to the end of the chapter, and then turned back to the
one before it, the second of First Peter. They could not have explained
all those beautiful and wonderful words--nay, they knew that most of
them they understood very imperfectly. But they could take comfort from
them, lingering over a verse here and there, and speaking to one another
words which might not have been very wise, but which were always
reverent and trustful.
"It is `as new-born babes' that He speaks to us. And babes are neither
wise nor strong. But He cares for them all the same, and surely we
`have tasted that the Lord is gracious,'" said Selina.
And so she went on to the end. It quieted them, and they went out to
the garden to get the good of the sunshine, not less cheerfully than
usual. The faces that the priest caught sight of as they passed were
brighter than he had seen them for a good while.
"See, they have forgotten their troubles already," said he, smiling.
"You are mistaken in thinking they will resist. Sister Agnace is
mistaken in thinking they will suffer. They will yield to circumstances
and a strong will. From whom could they have inherited strength?
Neither from father nor mother."
"Frederica is like the little Jewess her grandmother. She may have
inherited her strength," said Madame. "I wish you could have seen her
as I saw her a little while ago."
"Ah, well! She has forgotten her anger already. See the little
butterfly flitting about in the garden. There is nothing to fear from
her."
"I will send Sister Agnace to keep an eye on your butterfly. It is not
necessary that they should tell their affairs to old Dixen who is
there."
She returned immediately.
"Of what are you then afraid, if not of the `little Jewess'?" asked she.
"There is nothing to fear. Everything is prospering beyond my hopes."
"And your brother?"
"He is better. But I do not think he will seriously object to the plans
I have in view for these children. Indeed, I have no plans for them.
That will be for those who are to be appointed as their guardians. I
hope to name these guardians. Cyprien may not agree with me, but still
I think it can be arranged to suit us both."
"And are you sure that their mother and your brother did not appoint
them, even after you found the torn paper on your brother's table?"
"It is impossible. If indeed there were any guardians legally
appointed, that might make the work I have set myself more difficult.
Other means would have to be used."
"Ah, well! I doubt if ever you can make a nun of `the little Jewess,'"
said Madame.
"Nothing is farther from my wish than to do that. Her sister shall be a
nun and a saint, and if by any miracle of science and skill her
blindness may be cured, it shall be so done, that even by that the
Church shall receive honour, and her power be extended and strengthened.
Your `little Jewess,' your `butterfly,' shall be allowed to shine in
society, and to take her fill of the pleasure she tasted last year. A
few years with the good sisters first will do much for her. When she is
properly submissive to those who have a right to direct her, she shall
have her own way. I am not afraid."
"And her brothers: what are they to be?"
"After ten, or even seven years with the good fathers, they shall choose
for themselves."
"And if Mr Vane should return? It is not impossible."
"It _is_ impossible. Mr Vane is dead."
"Dead!" repeated Madame. Even she was shocked at the tidings, or the
suddenness of the announcement.
"I have known it for a week. Cyprien does not know it yet, but all must
know it soon."
"And have you come to tell these girls?"
"No. They will probably have letters to-night,--the steamer has
arrived, I see,--and then no time must be lost. They must not have a
chance to talk over their affairs with all the world, who will come to
condole with them."
"And will you not see them?"
"You forget. They decline to see me," said the priest laughing. "I
hope to find them in better humour another time."
Madame did not laugh.
"It is not impossible that all your plans for them may be frustrated
after all," said she.
"For the moment, it is not impossible. But I shall never, while I live,
give up the hope of making them and their wealth of use to the Church,
and when I die others will take up the work. There is nothing
impossible. They, or their children, or their children's children--and
their wealth must be ours."
"There is only God Himself stronger than you and the Church, and these
children believe Him to be on their side."
"They are but children," said the priest, but he frowned darkly at her
words, as he turned to go away.
Madame sat still, looking after him in silence, Mr Jerome's tidings had
moved her more than she would have thought possible. She sat lost in
painful thoughts till Miss Agnace came in. She felt that she could not
yet meet the questioning eyes of these orphan girls.
"I am going out," said she, rising hastily. "If any one calls, the
young ladies are not to be seen."
She went out immediately and Miss Agnace did not follow her to say to
her what she had come to say.
"It will keep. Perhaps she need not be told," said she to herself.
It seemed that Miss Agnace had not been needed in the garden, or rather
the need for her was past, before she had been sent out. She met the
girls returning to the house. They were very quiet but there was some
restrained excitement in their manners, as she remembered afterwards.
They went to their own room, where she had supposed they both remained
till she went to tell them that luncheon was served. But only Selina
was there. Frederica had gone to see their sister Caroline, she told
Miss Agnace.
"But my dear, should she not have asked permission, or at least have
said that she was going, or have taken the carriage. It is not well
that a young lady should go out alone, and she is not strong."
"Of whom should she ask permission?" said Selina coldly.
And so Miss Agnace had gone to let Madame know, as Madame expected her
to let her know everything that went on in the house. But she had not
waited to hear, and Frederica had been allowed to have her own way.