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Are you an atheist?" asked Windham, horrified. "No ... but I believe that God is Good. And knows no evil. Sometimes in the night when I've sat thinking, Bertha seems to come to me; tells me things I can't quite understand. Wonderful things, Uncle Robert." The other regarded him silently, curiously. He seemed at a loss. "I've learned to judge men with less harshness," Frank spoke on.
Up to the year 597 this Saxon capital, of practically all south-eastern England, was completely heathen, saving only the King's Frankish wife Bertha and Bishop Luidhard, who had come over as her chaplain about the year 575, when the marriage with the heathen Ethelbert had taken place.
M. de Bois joined them in the antechamber, with the intelligence that Maurice was nowhere to be found. After a second search, and half an hour's delay, the carriage started without him. As soon as they reached the château, Bertha bade her aunt good-night, and hastened to Madeleine's chamber.
Bertha carefully closed the door, and, drawing her cousin down into a seat, placed herself beside her, and strove to read her countenance. "Madeleine, is it possible? How mistaken I have been! You do not love our cousin Maurice. Poor Maurice! It is a dreadful blow to him. And you love some one else. But whom?
Oh, you know what I mean of course there isn't anything, REALLY; but I suppose she brought in Prince Varigliano and Lord Hubert and there was some story of your having borrowed money of old Ned Van Alstyne: did you ever?" "He is my father's cousin," Miss Bart interposed. "Well, of course she left THAT out. It seems Ned told Carry Fisher; and she told Bertha, naturally.
Then, "Aleta's father was a circus rider?" "Acrobat. Yes, he was killed when she was quite a child." "But she remembers him; they were married, her mother" and he." "Why, yes, I suppose so ... naturally." There was another silence. Suddenly he turned on her, perplexed. "Bertha, what is wrong with you tonight?"
Minna heard and without looking up from her writing quietly repeated the verse. Her voice rose and trembled slightly on the last line. "Oh, chuck it, Minna," groaned Bertha Martin. "Tchookitt," repeated Minna absently, and went on with her writing. Miriam was scribbling down the words as quickly as she could
"I heard them speaking softly among themselves last night of some blame against you. They were wrong." The Carrier's wife was silent. Caleb answered for her. "They were wrong," he said. "I knew it!" cried Bertha, proudly. "I told them so. I scorned to hear a word! Blame her with justice!" she pressed the hand between her own, and the soft cheek against her face. "No, I am not so blind as that."
The young bride looked charming in a handsome gown of heavy white satin, of the kind that "could stand alone," of the "block" pattern then in vogue, and made in the fashion of the day, with full long-trained skirt and tight low-necked bodice trimmed with a rich lace bertha. Her hair was worn in curls, fastened back from the face on each side.
Herr Garlan was a distant relation of Bertha's mother. When Bertha was quite a young girl he had often visited the house and made love to her in a rather awkward way. In those days she had no reasons to encourage him, because it was in another guise that her fancy pictured life and happiness to her.
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