They could not say them out; the invitation had been given
and been replied to as it must be; this was only a call with Aunt
Euphrasia; everything that they might have in their minds could not
be spoken, even if they could have seen it quite clearly enough to
speak; they both felt when the half hour was over, as if they had
said--had done--nothing that they ought, or wanted to. And neither
knew it of the other; that was the worst.

When Rodney at last went out to untie his horse, Miss Euphrasia
turned round to Sylvie with a question.

"Is this all quite safe and easy for you, dear?"

"Yes," returned Sylvie, frankly, understanding her. "I have given up
all that worry. There is money enough for a good while if we don't
mind using it. And it is _mother's_ money; and Dr. Sainswell says
she _cannot_ have a long life."

Sylvie spoke the last sentence with a break; but her voice was clear
and calm,--only tender.

"And after that?" Miss Kirkbright asked, looking kindly into her
face.

"After that I shall do what I can; what other girls do, who haven't
money. When the time comes I shall see. All that comes hard to
me--after mother's feebleness--is the changing; the not staying of
anything anywhere. My life seems all broken and mixed up, Miss
Kirkbright. Nothing goes right on as if it belonged."

"'Lo, it is I; be not afraid,'" repeated Miss Kirkbright softly.
"When things work and change, in spite of us, we may know it is the
Lord working. That is the comfort,--the certainty."

The tenderness that had been in heart and voice sprang to tears in
Sylvie's eyes, at that word.

"How _do_ you think of such things?" she said, earnestly. "I shall
never forget that now."

Aunt Euphrasia could not help telling Rodney as they drove away
toward the city, how brave and good the child was. She could not
help it, although, wise woman that she was, she refrained carefully,
in most ways, from "putting things in his head."

"I knew it before," was Rodney's answer.

Aunt Euphrasia concluded, at that, in her own mind, that we may be
as old and as wise as we please, but in some things the young people
are before us; they need very little of our "putting in heads."

"Aunt Effie," said Rodney, presently, "do you think I have been a
very great good-for-nothing?"

"No, indeed. Why?"

"Well, I certainly haven't been good for much; and I'm not sure
whether I could be. I don't know exactly what to think of myself. I
haven't had anythi