Mrs. Arderne gave Catherine's brow a quick kiss.
'Naturally _I_ think most of Toddie's speeches sweet. Go on training my babes in the knowledge of the Creator, Catherine, for I--I shouldn't like them to grow up to be worldly like their mother.'
'You only _try_ to be worldly, your heart isn't one bit so.'
'Yes, it is; I love all the pleasures and vanities of life. Now go to bed, Catherine, child, or you will oversleep yourself in the morning, and not be able to write that lengthy letter to Brian North.'
The girl sprang up, and clasped her strong young arms round her friend, crying:
'Good-night, then, you dearest of employers. Tell me once again that you _do_ really want me, and that you will give me notice directly I cease to be of use to you.'
'Have I not told you, just this minute, that I want you for my babies' sakes as well as for my own? If Ted and Nora had not their "dear Carr" to teach them about God, they might question mother, and find out how little her knowledge is on the subject. You have another mission here, Catherine, for the enlightenment of ignorance.'
'And "mother" knows where to seek knowledge, whereas babies do not. Thank you again and again, dear, for making me welcome.'
Mrs. Arderne turned the conversation into a more shallow channel by laughingly reminding her young friend:
'We shall probably get on together famously for the future, because your plan and my plan for you are identical. We are both bent upon the reconciliation of your uncles.'
Catherine Carmichael was up and dressed next day fully two hours before any one else was stirring in Woodley Villa. Then she said her prayers, and read her Bible, and still had plenty of time left for the writing of her letter.
Softly opening the bedroom window, which was in the front of the house, she placed her desk on a small table, and sat down where she could feel the fresh wind and look out occasionally over the country scene.
A September sunrise, and an open window! Mrs. Arderne would have been horrified at Catherine's imprudence, but to this girl an open-air life had been natural in all weathers, and for early hours she had a strong preference.
'Before breakfast' was always her thinking-time. She was of opinion that men and women need leisure in which to reflect upon their lives, and to remember both the high purpose and the unimportance of earthly existence. Beginning the day thus, with happy realization of the creature's indebtedness to the Creator, she found daily crosses and perplexities much easier to bear with serenity, while joys and innocent pleasures acquired double powers of satisfaction, by being hallowed with foreseeing gratitude.