Ada started, but the woman did not observe it, and went on with increasing warmth.
"The old fellow is a saint on earth—a holy saint, if such things ever are. I know what crime is. I can find guilt in a man's eye, let it be buried ever so deep; but this old man is not guilty; a summer morning is not more serene than his face! Men who murder from malice or accident do not sit so peacefully in their cells, with that sort of prayerful tenderness brooding over the countenance."
"Of whom are you speaking, woman? Who is this old man?" demanded Ada, sharply. "What is his innocence or his guilt to me?"
"What is his innocence or guilt to you? Are you a woman?—have you a heart and ask that question? As for me I might ask it—I who know what crime is, and who should feel most for the criminal! But you, pampered in wealth, beautiful, loving, worshipped—who never had even a temptation to sin—it is for you to feel for a man unjustly accused—the innocent for the innocent, the guilty for the guilty. Sympathy should run thus, if it does not!"
"This is an outrage—mockery!" said Ada starting from her chair. "Who sent you here, woman?—how dare you talk to me of these things?—I know nothing of the old man you are raving about; wish to know less. If you want money, say so, but do not talk of him, of crime, of—of murder!"
She sunk back to her chair again, pale and breathing heavily. Her strange visitor stood up, evidently surprised by a degree of agitation that seemed to her without adequate cause.
"So the rich can feel," she said; "but this is not compassion. My presence annoys you—the close mention of sin makes you shudder. You look, yes, you do look like that angel child when I first laid my hand upon her shoulder."
"What child?—of whom do you speak?" questioned Ada, faintly, for the woman was bending over her, and she was fascinated by the power of those wild eyes.
"It is the grandchild of that old man—the old murderer they call him—the old saint I call him; it is his grandchild that your look reminded me of a moment ago; it is gone, now, but I shall always like you the better for having seemed like her only for a minute!"