"If he who is without sin casts the first stone, Margaret, you need have no fear of the condemnation of men. Tune up the fine, invisible instrument of your better nature and let the words of the Divine Man ever sound there: 'Neither do I condemn thee.'"
Margaret slipped from her chair, and on her knees buried her face in Mrs. Thorpe's lap; and her form shook and quivered with the passion of her sobs.
"Mrs. Thorpe," she said, "I want my mother--my poor, broken-hearted, forsaken mother--mother--mother--and little, suffering Jamie!"
Mrs. Thorpe laid her hand caressingly on the girl's dark hair, and her own face was wet with tears.
"Tell me about your mother, Margaret. Where is she now, and what is she doing?"
"I have not seen her for over a year. I knew then that she never wished to see my face again--oh, poor mother! But a longing to hear from her came over me, and I asked Geraldine to-day if she had seen her. She told me that mother has given up sewing again, and that she goes out to service wherever she can get a day's work, and be with Jamie at night."
"We will go and see her, Margaret, you and I. It will gladden her heart to see her Lassie again, and it will do you good, too. We will go to-morrow, and I am sure we shall find some way to assist her."
"Now go to your rest, my child, and never doubt that all good belongs to you and yours."
CHAPTER XVI
MRS. THORPE'S WORK