Prudence put the sheets carefully together again.
"Judith, Judith," she said, with a quiet smile, "you lead me far astray. I ought to find such things wicked and horrible to the ear; but perchance 'tis because I know your father, and see him from day to day, that I find them innocent enough. They seem to rest the mind when one is sorrowful."
"Beware of them, good Prue; they are the devil himself come in the guise of an angel to snatch thee away. Nay, but, sweetheart, why should you be sorrowful?"
"There is Martha Hodgson," said she, simply, "and her children, nigh to starving; and I cannot ask Julius for more----"
"Why," said she, "my father did not use half of what I gave him for the knife he bought at Warwick--marry, I guess he paid for it mostly himself; but what there is here you shall have."
And she emptied the contents on to the table, and pushed them over to her friend.
"You do not grudge it, Judith?" said Prudence. "Nay, I will not ask thee that. Nor can I refuse it either, for the children are in sore want. But why should you not give it to them yourself, Judith?"
"Why?" said Judith, regarding the gentle face with kindly eyes. "Shall I tell thee why, sweetheart? 'Tis but this: that if I were in need, and help to be given me, I would value it thrice as much if it came from your hand. There is a way of doing such things, and you have it; that is all."
"I hear Julius is come in," Prudence said, as she took up the two candles. "Will you go in and speak with him?"
There was some strange hesitation in her manner, and she did not go to the door. She glanced at Judith somewhat timidly. Then she set the candles down again.
"Judith," said she, "your pity is quick, and you are generous and kind; I would you could find it in your heart to extend your kindness."
"How now, good cousin?" Judith said, in amazement. "What's this?"
Prudence glanced at her again, somewhat uneasily, and obviously in great embarrassment.
"By my life, I will not! Not from you, dear heart, whatever it be. But what is the dreadful secret?"
"Tom Quiney has spoken to me," she said, diffidently.
"And you! What said you? 'Tis all settled, then!" she exclaimed, almost breathlessly.
"It is as I imagined, Judith," said Prudence, calmly--and she withdrew her hands, with a touch of maidenly pride, perhaps, from what she could not but imagine to be a kind of felicitation. "He hath no fault to find with the country. If he goes away to those lands beyond seas, 'tis merely because you will say no word to hold him back."