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It did not take the Wolf long to reach the grandmother's house; he knocked: tap, tap. Aunt Grenertsen was difficult to talk with—so contrary, somehow, even if not really cross, that it was very tiresome. She wasn’t the least bit like Uncle Isaac of Kingthorpe, who was always kind and gentle, always pleasant. Oh, dear, no! Aunt Grenertsen wasn’t like Uncle Isaac; far, far from it! “I figure you won’t go away hungry,” he said in a voice Bob was surprised to find was cultivated and soft. “The old man here sees to it that we get enough. It won’t be long either. I’ll go and see. I’m sort of housekeeper as well as foreman around this hang-out. Fine job for a full-grown man.”.
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She revived. 'My son!' said she, in a languid voice, as she pressed him to her heart. 'Great God, I am recompensed! Surely this moment may repay a life of misery!' He could only receive her caresses in silence; but the sudden tears which started in his eyes spoke a language too expressive to be misunderstood. The evening now sunk in darkness, and the hour was fast approaching which would decide the fate of Julia. Trembling anxiety subdued every other sensation; and as the minutes passed, her fears increased. At length she heard the gates of the monastery fastened for the night; the bell rang the signal for repose; and the passing footsteps of the nuns told her they were hastening to obey it. After some time, all was silent. Julia did not yet dare to venture forth; she employed the present interval in interesting and affectionate conversation with Madame de Menon, to whom, notwithstanding her situation, her heart bade a sorrowful adieu. “Pull in to shore, Bob,” he said quickly. “We’d better take a look at what’s coming before we tackle it.” “Of course you should have spoken to Father and Mother about it.”.
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