ind of half-dark, nothing visible, so that if any
one should gaze and gaze down the valley, it was not possible to see
what was there: and I was glad that it was not possible, for my very
soul was tired. I sat down and leant my back upon the wall of our
house, and opened my lips to draw in the air of the morning. How still
it was! the very birds not yet begun to rustle and stir in the bushes;
the night air hushed, and scarcely the first faint tint of blue
beginning to steal into the darkness. When I had sat there a little,
closing my eyes, lo, tears began to steal into them like rain when there
has been a fever of heat. I have wept in my time many tears, but the
time of weeping is over with me, and through all these miseries I had
shed none. Now they came without asking, like a benediction refreshing
my eyes. Just then I felt a soft pressure upon my shoulder, and there
was Agnes coming close, putting her shoulder to mine, as was her way,
that we might support each other.

'You weep, ma mere,' she said.

'I think it is one of the angels Mere Julie has seen,' said I. 'It is a
refreshment--a blessing; my eyes were dry with weariness.'

'Mother,' said Madame Martin, 'do you think it is angels with wings
like peacocks and jewelled collars that our Father sends to us? Ah, not
so--one of those whom we love has touched your dear eyes,' and with that
she kissed me upon my eyes, taking me in her arms. My heart is sometimes
hard to my son's wife, but not always--not with my will, God knows! Her
kiss was soft as the touch of any angel could be.

'God bless thee, my child,' I said.

'Thanks, thanks, ma mere!' she cried. 'Now I am resolved; now will I go
and speak to Martin--of something in my heart.'

'What will you do, my child?' I said, for as the light increased I could
see the meaning in her face, and that it was wrought up for some great
thing. 'Beware, Agnes; risk not my son's happiness by risking thyself;
thou art more to Martin than all the world beside.'

'He loves thee dearly, mother,' she said. My heart was comforted. I was
able to remember that I too had had my day. 'He loves his mother, thank
God, but not as he loves thee. Beware, _ma fille_. If you risk my son's
happiness, neither will I forgive you.' She smiled upon me, and kissed
my hands.

'I will go and take him his food and some linen, and carry him your love
and mine.'

'_You_ will go, and carry one of those heavy baskets with the others!'

'Mother,'