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Updated: June 19, 2025
And even as she said it she was conscious of being slightly under the influence of Dowie's wise gaze. "Your grace only knows those young people she would like to know." It was a mere simple statement. "People are not as censorious as they once were." Her grace's tone was intended to reply to the suggestion lying in the words which had worn the air of statement without comment.
But, though the small white face was always a touching sight, it was no whiter than usual and her breathing though low and very soft was regular. "But where the strength's to come from the good God alone knows!" was Dowie's inward sigh. The clock had just struck one when she leaned forward again. What she saw would not have disturbed her if she had not been overstrung by long anxiety.
The pungency of her temper was but as the salt and vinegar which brought out the true flavour of the other numberless pleasures around her. Were her excursions far afield, perched aloft on Dowie's shoulder, and holding on by the top of his head, or clinging to his back with her arms round his neck, at all the less delightful that auntie was scolding at home?
When she tapped upon the door and in response to a faint sounding "Come in" entered the pretty place, Robin rose from her seat by the fire and came towards her holding out her arms. "I'm so glad you came, Dowie dear," she said, "I'm so glad." She put the arms close round Dowie's neck and kissed her and held her cheek against the comfortable warm one a moment before she let go.
This teaching was largely the source of Dowie's power. There were two large hotels in Chicago which were continually filled to overflowing with pilgrims from all parts who came to seek "divine healing." These left behind them sums of money often considerable in token of their gratitude to God; not to the prophet, who would accept nothing.
In the evening she sat long before the fire and Dowie, sewing near her, looked askance now and then at her white face with the lost eyes. It was Dowie's own thought that they were "lost." She had never before seen anything like them. She could not help glancing sideways at them as they gazed into the red glow of the coal. What was her mind dwelling on? Was she thinking of words to say?
Robin fumbled with a thin hand at the neck of her dress. She drew from it a chain with a silk bag attached. Out of the bag she took first a small folded package. "Do you remember the dry leaves I wanted to keep when I was so little?" she whispered woefully. "I was too little to know how to save them. And you made me this tiny silk bag." Dowie's face was almost frightened as she drew back to look.
But the sound of approaching steps and voices restored her equanimity, and a listening look gradually displaced the emotion on her countenance. The instant she saw them she tumbled off her perch, and before they had got the door opened was half way to it, crying, "Dooie! Dooie!" Another instant and she was lifted high in Dowie's arms. "My little mistress!" exclaimed he, kissing her.
"Never you let yourself be frightened for a moment. Your own Dowie's here and always will be and Dowie knows all about it." "Until you took me on your knee to-night," very low and in broken phrases, "I was so lonely. I was as lonely as I used to be in the old nursery before you and Mademoiselle came. Afterwards " with a shudder, "there were so many long, long nights. There always will be so many.
"What you must do, my dear, is to put on your best evening frock and go downstairs and enjoy yourself as the other young people will. Her grace wants you to see someone your own age," was Dowie's answer. "But I am not like the others. I am only a girl earning her living as a companion. How do I know " "Her grace knows," Dowie said.
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