ase say good-bye for us to--to Mrs.
Venables and your cousins?'

'Keep them away,' the sad eyes entreated; and Prudence promised, 'Yes; I
will.'

She stood for a moment longer by the small crouched figure with its
bent, dark head; her eyes were full of her powerless, ineffectual
desires to heal, to help. Having the gift of comprehension, she wholly
knew their ineffectualness. She could only go, for all had been said
between them, and there remained the doing, wherein she had no part nor
lot.

She turned and went down into the city, and saw with wet eyes how it was
full of the sunshine, with the sea-wind blowing through it like hope.

CHAPTER XII

THE ROADS DIVIDE

'So much fate, so much irresistible dictation from temperament
and unknown inspiration, enters into life, that we doubt we can
say anything out of our own experience whereby to help each
other.'--R. W. EMERSON.

Prudence, according to her promise, exerted herself to keep her family
from going to say good-bye to the Crevequers. It was not a very easy
task. She represented to her aunt that looking after Tommy took most of
Betty's time.

'I doubt if they allow her at the hospital much,' said Mrs. Venables;
'and the child must be terribly anxious and lonely. I should like to do
what I can for her.'

Mrs. Venables was very kind; late failures of intimacy had slipped from
her memory since Tommy's disaster. She had been to see him at the
hospital, and had met Betty there. Tommy, during her visit, had
apparently been asleep. Betty had hardly spoken, for fear, she said, of
waking him.

'It is a long time,' said Mrs. Venables, 'since I had a satisfactory
talk with either of those interesting children. Yes, Prudence, they
_are_ interesting, owing to their very peculiar circumstances and ways
of life, whatever may be their personal limitations. I grant that one
does not come across great depths in them--or, anyhow, that the depths
are as yet quite unstirred; but those childlike, seemingly almost
soulless natures are a most interesting study to me. One wonders how far
their climate and their faith contribute towards the result as we see
it. There is certainly something in the beauty and gay paganism of this
city, mingled as it is with the simple devoutness of a symbolic faith,
that seems to develop such characters freely. I should like to watch
those children's career--to see what they grow into. Who knows but that
they may someti