Mary's face grew very pale; the corners of her mouth twinged, and vain was the effort to repress her tears, she burst into sobs. "I have learned a severe lesson of late," she said, "that though there may be those in the world, in pure Christian charity, to take the fallen by the hand, there are more who close their gates against her: may Heaven not close the eternal ones to them!—I have had two shut against me since we met; I have not dared tell you, dear madam; I knew how your kind heart would suffer for me."
"Good heavens!" cried Minnie, "how has it happened?"
"Some enemy," answered the other with quivering lips, "or better said, my enemy—the one who seems to seek the misery of all, alone can have done it. Past events have been by letter detailed; I was charged with them, and would not deny that the accusation was true. I accepted the shame as retribution."
"And have you then lost your pupils in consequence?"
"All," answered the unhappy woman; "for of the three families I attended, two were acquainted. One lady spoke of 'regret,' but 'there were worldly prejudices to be bowed down to.' I humbled myself, I implored them, for my poor old mother's sake, but it mattered little. At the other houses I was driven with insult from the place, and told that my manners bespoke no contrition or humility. Oh! if they could but witness the bowing down of my heart before Heaven for pardon, my sincere, my earnest repentance, they would not have condemned me so harshly."
"I fear," said Minnie taking her hand kindly between her own trembling ones, on which the tears of sympathy fell, "that the world in general judges only from outward seeming; the hypocrite may be pardoned and believed, but the lowly penitent woman, walking before her God, and seeking his will in all things, to gain pardon and peace, is rejected by man, because her tears are silent, and hidden, save to the one to whom all her thoughts are directed; and let this be your consolation, Mary, that there is a limit to man's power, and then the tears of contrition will shine like stars to light you on your road to where they will all be wiped away."
"May a better than myself bless you!" cried the stricken woman emphatically. "I did not intend saying so much to-day. May your consolation to me descend upon your own head in peace and happiness; and now, dear Mrs. Tremenhere, let me urge you to go, and tell your husband all, for only openness and candour can defeat the demon warring against us all."
"I will go," answered Minnie, pressing her hand warmly. "You are right, Mary; but do not you despond. I will see you again in a few days—now I will go at once."
And with a kind, gentle word to the sorrowing woman, she quitted the cottage, and, entering the fly awaiting her, drove rapidly towards home; and the brougham quitted its station too, and followed.