She thanked me, and said she would come because I had been good to her.
'And bring Tom,' I said.
She shook her head. 'I don't think Tom'll come, sir.'
'Not for your sake?' I asked.
'Tom'll do almost anythink for me,' she said, tears gathering in her eyes.
'Do you know,' I said very gently, 'that living as you are living now with Tom gives great pain to your friends?'
She bit her lips rebelliously, and put on her dogged look.
'And that it is wrong in the sight of God?'
There was no softening of the dogged look; it hardened rather.
'And,' I continued, 'there is so simple and so good a way of atoning for this wrong--a way that will bring Tom nearer to you, that will bind him closer to you. If, as you say, Tom will do anything for you, ask him to marry you.'