'I know not,' pursued Silvia, when they were alone, 'how we dare to
pray for any young life in times so dark as ours. But that we are
selfish in our human love, we should rather thank the Omnipotent
when it pleases Him to call one of these little ones, whom Christ
blessed, from a world against which His wrath is so manifestly
kindled. And yet,' she added, 'it must be right that we should
entreat for a life in danger; who can know to what it may be
destined?--what service it may render to God and man? One night
when I watched by Gregorius, weariness overcame me, and in a short
slumber I dreamt. That dream I shall never forget. It kept me in
heart and hope through the worst.'
'May I hear your dream?' asked Basil.
'Nay,' was the gentle reply, with a smile and a shake of the head,
'to you it would seem but foolishness. Let us speak of other things,
and first of yourself. You, too, are pale, good cousin. What have
you to tell me? What has come to pass since I saw you?'
With difficulty Basil found words to utter the thought which had led
him hither. He came to it by a roundabout way, and Silvia presently
understood: he was indirectly begging her to use her influence with
eminent churchmen at Rome, to discover whether Veranilda was yet
detained in Italy, or had been sent to the East.
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