‘Daphne!’ cried Madoline, ‘how dare you? How can you be so cruel? Not love him! Why, you know that I have loved him ever since I was a child, with a love which every day of my life has made stronger—a love which is so rooted in my heart that I cannot imagine what life would be like without him. I am not impulsive or demonstrative—I do not talk about those things which are most dear and most sacred in my life, simply because they are too sacred to be spoken about. If he were—to die—if I were to lose him—no, I cannot think of that. It is heartless of you to put such thoughts into my mind. My life has been all sunshine—a calm happy life. God may be keeping some great grief in store for my later days. If it were to come I should bow beneath the rod; but my heart would break all the same.’ ‘And if the grief took another shape—if he were to be false to you?’ said Daphne, laying her hand, icy cold now, upon her sister’s. ‘That would be worse,’ answered Lina huskily; ‘it would kill me.’ Daphne said not a word more. Her hands were clasped, as in prayer; the dark sorrowful eyes were lifted, and the lips moved dumbly. ‘I ought not to have talked of such things, dear,’ she said, gently, after that voiceless prayer. ‘It was very foolish.’ Lina was profoundly agitated. That calm and gentle nature was capable of strongest feeling. The image of a terrible sorrow—a sorrow which, however unlikely, was not impossible—once evoked was not to be banished in a moment. ‘Yes; it was foolish, Daphne,’ she answered tremulously. ‘No good can ever come of such thoughts. We are in God’s hands. We can only be happy in this life with fear and trembling, for our joy is so easily turned into sorrow. And now, dear, if you are quite comfortable, and there is nothing more I can do for you, I must go back to Aunt Rhoda. I promised to go for a walk with her.’ ‘Isn’t it too warm for walking?’ ‘Not for Aunt Rhoda’s idea of an afternoon walk, which is generally to stroll down to the pier, and sit under the trees watching the people land from the steamers.’ ‘Shall you be out long, do you think?’ ‘That will depend upon Aunt Rhoda. She said something about wanting to go in the steamer to Vevey, if it could be done comfortably before dinner.’ ‘Good-bye! Kiss me, Lina. Tell me you are not angry with me for what I said just now. I wanted to sound the depths of your love.’ ‘It was cruel, dear; but I am not angry,’ answered Lina, kissing her tenderly. Daphne put her arms round her sister’s neck, just as she had done years ago when she was a child. ‘God bless you, and reward you for all you have been to me, Lina!’ she faltered tearfully; and so, with a fervent embrace, they parted. CHAPTER XXXIII. ‘IS THERE NO GRACE? IS THERE NO REMEDIE?’