"There is no time, Madam, for her. She will never grow old, she will never suffer pain, she will never weep any more. The Master has been, and called for her." "She is dead!" said Celia, sympathizingly. "Dead? Nay, alive for evermore, as He is. 'Because He liveth, we shall live also.'[31] She is in the beatific vision, before the face of the Father, and shall never sin, nor suffer, nor depart any more. And we, here in this body of pain and sin, call them 'dead!' O Roswith! O my soul, my love, my darling! my wee bit bonnie bairn, sister and daughter in one, whom I loved as David Jonathan, as mine own soul! surely I am the dead, and thou art the living!" Celia sat amazed at this sudden flow of passionate words from her usually imperturbable companion. She had seen her moved, only a short time before, but not like this. Patient bent her head low over her work, and did not look up for some minutes. When she spoke, it was to say, very softly: "She never looked up rightly after the harrying of Lauchie. She lived, but she never laughed rightly again. The Doctor deemed that the ship wreck--the shock and the cold and the hunger--had wrought the ill. Maybe they had. But she never was a strong, likely lassie. She was ever gentle and quiet in all her ways, and could no bear much putting upon. And after that she just pined and wasted away. It was after Miss Magdalene died--after my Lady that is now was wedded--that the end came. It was one Sabbath afternoon, and I, poor fool! fancied her a wee bit better that day. She was lying on the bed in our chamber, and we had been cracking of divers things--of our Lord Christ and His resurrection, and that sweet prayer of His in John, and the like. Her voice was very low and soft--but it was ever that, I think--and her words came slowly and with pauses. And when we ended our crack, she saith, 'Patient, Sister! sing to me.' I asked her, 'What, dear heart?' and she saith, 'The Twenty-third Psalm.' So I sang: "'The Lord's my Shepherd, I'll not want. He makes me down to lie In pastures green: He leadeth me The quiet waters by.' "And now and then, just for a line, I heard her weak voice joining in. I sang to the end, and she sang the last lines: "'And in God's house for evermore My dwelling-place shall be.' "When I had done, I thought the place felt so still, as if the angels were there. Surely they were so! for in a few minutes after I made an end of singing, she arose and went to the Father. "I have been alone with God since that night Roswith died. I shall go some day, but it seems afar off now. Perchance it may be nearer than I deem. The Lord knoweth the time, and He will not forget me." There was a long silence when Patient's voice ceased. Celia spoke first. "Patient, you said once that you would tell me how my father met with my step-mother. But I want to know also why no one ever sought me out until now."