She may come to
you, you may go to her. As to that, nothing is certain."
"Except that your words are most uncertain and uncomforting, John."
Then John rose and went to her side and whispered those little words,
those simple words, those apparently meaningless, disconnected words
which children and women love and understand so well. And she wept a
little and then smiled, and the wretched story was buried in love and
pity--and perhaps the poor soul knew it!
"You see, Jane, my dear one, the Unknown fulfills what we never dare to
expect, so we will leave the door wide open for Faith and Hope." And as
John said these words, he had a sudden clear remembrance of the empty
loom and the fair little woman he had so often seen at work there. Then
a prayer leaped from his heart to the Everlasting Mercy, a prayer we too
seldom use, "Father, forgive, they know not what they do."
For a moment or two they sat hand in hand and were silent. Then Jane,
who was visibly suffering, from headache, went to her room, and John
took a pencil and began to make figures and notes in his pocketbook.
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