"'Tis good of you to come and see me. It's the weary waitin' that tries me so sorely. If the Lord called me quickly, 'twould be so much easier; I know I've got to go; and every day brings it nearer, but I feel at times like David: "'Oh, that I had wings like a dove! For then would I fly away, and be at rest.'" "You are being called very gently, Nannie. Pillow your head on this: 'Underneath are the Everlasting Arms,' and rest down here as a foretaste of what is before you." Her whole face brightened, and when they were walking home Adrienne said: "Oh, you ought to have gone into the Church, Godfrey. What a delightful rector or vicar you would make! I wish I had your faith and outlook." "I'm not an eloquent speaker," said Godfrey with a short laugh; "I fancy my sermons would be dry and dull, so I dare say I am best as I am. When do you think you will be off to France?" "After Lady Talbot's Bazaar takes place. I think I shall go on the 21st." "I'll look the General up as often as I can. He's the one who will miss you most. The Admiral is so content amongst his books." "And—and—" hesitated Adrienne, "shall I write and tell you how I get on, or would you rather not hear from me?" Godfrey looked straight ahead of him with compressed lips. "We always have corresponded, haven't we? I don't want things altered, Adrienne—not until you do." Adrienne was silent; but when he left her at her gate and held out his hand, she took it and held it tightly between her own for a moment. "You're much, much too good for me, Godfrey. Forgive me for not wanting your all. It's shameful of me, but it's just something in me, which I can't control or get over. And I still have the unswerving conviction that there's someone in the world waiting for you, someone much nobler—much better than I." He shook his head as he turned away, and his walk home, and the thoughts that accompanied it, brought him into his house with gloom in his eyes and deep depression in his soul. His mother at luncheon watched him anxiously, but was too tactful to ask him any questions. She knew he had been out with Adrienne, and was pretty certain that she had again refused him. Lady Sutherland had known for a long time that her son's affections were set upon Adrienne. She also knew that the girl was strangely indifferent to him. And though she was well content that her son should not marry at present, she resented Adrienne's lack of appreciation of his love. "She will never get a better husband, socially or morally," she thought to herself; "I really hope she will be made to suffer. If Godfrey is not good enough for her, who will be?" * * * * * And Adrienne was shedding some miserable tears in her room before she joined her uncles at lunch. "Why can't I love him? He's so deep and true and steadfast. But I believe if he were less quiet and controlled, if he took me by storm as it were, and showed more heat and intensity, I should yield to him."