"I forgive him," said Beth, struggling to pursue her thought to the end. "Of course you know that, Judith. But I was fond of the Judge, and he died from—it. And Jim was—false to me, and" (Judith felt the little form begin to quiver) "even his dishonesty was not for me but for—her, because Mr. Price sent Mrs. Wayne a great bill for expensive jewels, and she asked me if—if I'd give them back, and I had to say that he—hadn't given me any!"
"Beth, dear!" cried Judith, clasping the quivering form. "Beth, be brave!"
"I will," said Beth, struggling heroically. "But as I've thought it out by myself——"
"Oh, you've been all alone!" cried Judith, reproaching herself. "Why didn't I understand?"
"I had to think it out," Beth said. "I think I see it clearly now, Judith, and I know myself better, and I'm—ashamed of myself that I'm so selfish, but I think that I—don't love him—any more!"
Tears came to her relief, and she clung to her sister, shaken with sobs. Judith wept with her; for them both that was a blessed hour. Long after others were abed their murmured conference lasted, for Beth needed to be told, over and over again, that she had done right, and felt right, and Judith was glad of it.
Thus new feelings grew in Judith, stronger for her contact with the outside world. For the school was disagreeable and humiliating. She had to go back to the rudiments of knowledge; she had to do examples and find them wrong. Her teachers were unpleasant, her fellow-pupils coarse and inquisitive. The many little daily rubs commenced to tell on her; her cheeks lost colour, her step something of its vigour, and she began to look upon the outer world as something with power to do her still more harm.
Yet to it she presented a haughty front, as one person found. Mrs. Harmon came to call, an interesting widow, dressed in her new mourning. It was late in the afternoon; the day had gone hard with Judith, she had forgotten to eat luncheon, and since her return from the school had been sitting over her "home lessons," wretched tasks which called her to make up the accounts of a certain Mr. Y——, and also to calculate the interest on notes at four, five, and seven and a half per cent. for periods of from twelve to a hundred days. Her answers would not agree with those in the book. But faint and discouraged as she was, her eyes grew bright as she saw Mrs. Harmon's card, and she walked into the parlour with the air of a grenadier.
"Why, Judith, child," said Mrs. Harmon, rising, "how changed you look! I am so glad I came to comfort you."
"And I am glad you came," Judith returned. "I have been wishing to see you."