gth should be sustained, and the gravity of the
situation kept from her, Mrs. Gaines yielded to the medical commands,
consoled by the ready acquiescence of the rector. But before she left
she extracted a promise that he would call frequently at Lynbrook, and
wait his opportunity to say an uplifting word to Mrs. Amherst.

The Reverend Ernest Lynde, who was a young man, with more zeal than
experience, deemed it his duty to obey this injunction to the letter;
but hitherto he had had to content himself with a talk with the
housekeeper, or a brief word on the doorstep from Wyant. Today, however,
he had asked somewhat insistently for Miss Brent; and Justine, who was
free at the moment, felt that she could not refuse to go down. She had
seen him only in the pulpit, when once or twice, in Bessy's absence, she
had taken Cicely to church: he struck her as a grave young man, with a
fine voice but halting speech. His sermons were earnest but ineffective.

As he rose to meet her, she felt that she should like him better out of
church. His glance was clear and honest, and there was sweetness in his
hesitating smile.

"I am sorry to seem persistent--but I heard you had news of Mr.
Langhope, and I was anxious to know the particulars," he explained.

Justine replied that her message had overtaken Mr. Langhope at Wady
Haifa, and that he hoped to reach Alexandria in time to catch a steamer
to Brindisi at the end of the week.

"Not till then? So it will be almost three weeks--?"

"As nearly as I can calculate, a month."

The rector hesitated. "And Mr. Amherst?"

"He is coming back too."

"Ah, you have heard? I'm glad of that. He will be here soon?"

"No. He is in South America--at Buenos Ayres. There will be no steamer
for some days, and he may not get here till after Mr. Langhope."

Mr. Lynde looked at her kindly, with grave eyes that proffered help.
"This is terrible for you, Miss Brent."

"Yes," Justine answered simply.

"And Mrs. Amherst's condition----?"

"It is about the same."

"The doctors are hopeful?"

"They have not lost hope."

"She seems to keep her strength wonderfully."

"Yes, wonderfully."

Mr. Lynde paused, looking downward, and awkwardly turning his soft
clerical hat in his large kind-looking hands. "One might almost see in
it a dispensation--_we_ should see one, Miss Brent."

"_We?_" She glanced up apologetically, not quite sure that her tired
mind had followed his meaning.

"We, I mean, who be