'Woman! indeed!' replied Mary—but she was not allowed to proceed; for a gentleman hastily stepped forward, crying, 'It is impossible for us to suffer such insults to be offered to Miss Mowbray:—I desire, therefore, that you will take your daughter away (turning to Mary's father); and, if possible, teach her better manners.' Having said this, he overtook the agitated Adeline; and offering her his arm, saw her home to her lodgings: while those who had heard with surprise and suspicion the strange and impertinent questions and insolent tone of Mary, resumed in a degree their confidence in Adeline, and turned a disgusted and deaf ear to the hysterical vehemence with which the half-sobbing Mary defended herself, and vilified Adeline, as her father and brother-in-law, almost by force, led her out of the church-yard.

The gentleman who had so kindly stepped forward to the assistance of Adeline was Mr Beauclerc, the surgeon of the village, a man of considerable abilities and liberal principles; and when he bade Adeline farewell, he said, 'My wife will do herself the pleasure of calling on you this evening:' then, kindly pressing her hand, he with a respectful bow took his leave.

Luckily for Adeline, Berrendale was detained in town that day; and she was spared the mortification of showing herself to him, writhing as she was under the agonies of public shame, for such it seemed to her. Convinced as she was of the light in which she must have appeared to the persons around her from the malicious interrogatories of Mary;—convinced too, as she was more than beginning to be, of the fallacy of the reasoning which had led her to deserve, and even to glory in, the situation which she now blushed to hear disclosed;—and conscious as she was, that to remain in the village, and expect to retain her school, was now impossible—she gave herself up to a burst of sorrow and despondence; during which her only consolation was, that it was not witnessed by Berrendale.

It never for a moment entered into the ingenuous mind of Adeline, that her declaration would have more weight than that of Mary Warner; and that she might, with almost a certainty of being believed, deny her charge entirely: on the contrary, she had no doubt but that Mrs Beauclerc was coming to inquire into the grounds for Mary's gross address; and she was resolved to confess to her all the circumstances of her story.

After church in the afternoon Mrs Beauclerc arrived, and Adeline observed, with pleasure, that her manner was even kinder than usual; it was such as to ensure the innocent of the most strenuous support, and to invite the guilty to confidence and penitence.

'Never, my dear Miss Mowbray,' said Mrs Beauclerc, 'did I call on you with more readiness than now; as I come assured that you will give me not only the most ample authority to contradict, but the fullest means to confute, the vile calumnies which that malicious girl, Mary Warner, has, ever since she entered the village, been propagating against you: but, indeed, she is so little respected in her rank of life, and you so highly in yours, that your mere denial of the truth of her statement will, to every candid mind, be sufficient to clear your character.'

Adeline never before was so strongly tempted to violate the truth; and there was a friendly earnestness in Mrs Beauclerc's manner, which proved that it would be almost cruel to destroy the opinion which she entertained of her virtue. For a moment Adeline felt disposed to yield to the temptation, but it was only for a moment,—and in a hurried and broken voice she replied, 'Mary Warner has asserted of me nothing but—' Here her voice faltered.

'Nothing but falsehoods, no doubt, interrupted Mrs Beauclerc triumphantly,—'I thought so.'

'Nothing but the truth!' resumed Adeline.

'Impossible!' cried Mrs Beauclerc, dropping the cold hand which she held: and Adeline, covering her face, and throwing herself back in the chair, sobbed aloud.