“I am sure that Miss Adair has hit it!” cried Mr. Lancaster, rising. “I know Miss Gallatin well, and she is lonely, and she does loathe her present surroundings. I’m going home; I pass near her house. Would you like me to sound her for you, Miss Lucas?” “I’d be most grateful,” returned Jeanette. “Though it makes my head whirl to find the impossible right around the corner, turning possible under my eyes! I had no idea of getting so much as a clue to a person!” “This is the House of the Thaumaturgi; you see your friend, Miss Adair, is getting their powers; this suggestion was hers,” said Mr. Lancaster, and said good night. “Now you two children take each other off somewhere, and compare notes on these past months since you met,” ordered Miss Braithwaite. “I suspect you want to see each other, and I know that I want to talk to Mr. Lucas, now that he has delivered himself into my hands!” “She doesn’t realize how little I really know you,” Cis said apologetically, as she led Jeanette to her own room. “Neither do I!” retorted Jeanette. “I think we agreed that circumstances had made us friends beyond common measures of time and opportunity. May I speak like an old friend? May I call you Cis; will you call me Jeanette? That’s right! You have changed a great deal, Cis; you are wonderfully changed. So am I, but not for the better, like you. My uncle has told me what you have done. My dear, my dear, I am proud of you, and ashamed of me! You have been brave, faithful, and you are not whining! I’ve been bitter, awfully, horribly bitter, Cis! I hope it’s better now. I’ve been feeling that it wasn’t fair, what happened to me. I suspect it hurt my pride. I felt insulted, dragged down, as if God had dealt unfairly with me.” “Oh, my, no!” cried Cis. “God doesn’t deal unfairly; why would He? You wouldn’t. But any girl would feel insulted in your place; it’s a shame! I thought so then, and I’ve been thinking so ever since. But it wasn’t God’s fault, you know. Don’t you suppose God saved you from worse sorrow?” “Yes, I do! He sent you, true-hearted and courageous, to interfere for me!” cried Jeanette. “Cis, I’ve blessed you before every shrine I visited in Europe and here!” “Then it’s likely that you saved me in your turn, Jeanette. I might easily have slipped my cable; likely you helped me hold,” said Cis simply. “Do you know what _you_ have done, Cicely of the burnished hair? You have impressed my uncle Wilmer by your action, coming as it did on top of my great father’s choice of the Old Church, Miss Braithwaite, and other people and things. He is looking into the Church; he never would before! He told me he was going to satisfy himself just what this strange power rested upon that made ordinary people martyrs and saints! He is a prejudiced, strong-willed man, Cis, but he is an honest one, and you know what happens when honest people begin this study. Your hand set this in motion, Cicely Adair!” cried Jeanette.