might in mercy give us a word beforehand to let us know when to be
expecting more particularly. I don't know, you know, child; I'm only
saying what might be."

"But what makes you think so, Mrs. Martha?"

Winifred was quick-witted enough to perceive something withheld.

"There's things that it's not right for any one to know but those as
will reverence them."

"Oh, I will, I will," said Winifred, clasping her hands.

"As I understand it, Mr. Cameron's had no assurance yet."

Winifred did not ask what this meant. She felt that she was listening
to words that, if mysterious, were to be pondered in silence.

"You know the poor thing whose husband is always tipsy--drunken Job they
call him--that you've seen listening to Mr. Cameron?--and that weakly
Mr. McNider, with the little boy?"

"Yes," assented Winifred.

"He told them," whispered the housekeeper, "that when he was agonising
in prayer it came into his mind to _wait until August this year_. He
hasn't any assurance what it may have meant; but that may come later,
and p'r'aps the days may be told him; and he's awaiting, and we're
awaiting too. There, that's all I have to tell, child, and I must be
going."