CHAPTER XV.

GOING ON PILGRIMAGE.


It was still quite the middle of the night when a strong light was
flashed into Cecile D'Albert's eyes, and she was aroused from a
rather disturbed sleep by Jane, who held up the Russia-leather purse
in triumph.

"Here it is, Cecile," she said, "here it is. I guess Jesus Christ
heard your bit of a prayer real wonderful quick, my lamb."

"Oh, Jane! He did not answer me once," said Cecile, starting up and
too surprised and bewildered to understand yet that her lost purse
was really hers again. "He never heard me, Jane; I suppose He was
asleep, for I did ask Him so often to let me have my purse back."

"There wasn't much sleep about Him," said Jane; "the Lord don't
never slumber nor sleep; and as to not answering, what answer could
be plainer than yer purse, Cecile? Here, you don't seem to believe
it, take it in yer hand and count."

"My own purse; Lovedy's own purse," said Cecile, in rather a slow,
glad voice. The sense of touch had brought to her belief. She opened
her eyes wide and looked hard at Jane. Then a great light of beauty,
hope, and rapture filled the lovely eyes, and the little arms were
flung tight round the servant's honest neck.