“Ah, sir,” said Laura Stanbridge, with a sigh, “you tell me to pray for mercy and to repent of my sins.”
“I do,” he murmured.
“And yet you do not even ask me whether I am innocent or guilty?”
He paused for a moment, and looked intently in her face.
“Young woman,” he presently ejaculated, “I am not allowed to make myself your confessor. I beseech you to address yourself to a higher power, to Him who knows all our hearts, if you are innocent.”
“If, reverend sir,” exclaimed Laura, with an injured look, “I am so.”
“That is a question I must decline to discuss or offer an opinion on.
“If what you say is true, I hope and trust you will be able to prove your innocence. Will you read a little of this while I am gone?” he added, and he placed a pocket Bible between her passive hands.
She did not answer.
“I will leave it with you,” he murmured.