"I do not think so. Will you come to Mr. Harman now?"
"Yes. I will come on one condition!"
"What is that?"
"That I may see Charlotte afterwards."
"I am sure that can be managed."
Then Mr. Home desired the cabby to stop at Prince's Gate. A sleepy-looking servant waited up for them. He manifested no surprise at sight of the lady and gentleman at such an hour. Mr. Home took his wife's hand, and the servant led them straight to his master's study.
"I have told her the story," said Mr. Home; "she is your father's child, she comes to——" Here the clergyman paused and looked at his wife, he wanted the word "forgive" to come from her own lips. Mrs. Home had grown white to her very lips. Now instead of replying, she fell upon her knees and covered her face.
"Charlotte," said Mr. Harman, "can you do what this clergyman wants? Can you forgive the sin?" There was no answer; Mrs. Home was sobbing aloud. "I have robbed you, I have robbed you most cruelly. My dying father asked me to be good to you; I have been worse than cruel. You see before you an old, old man, as great a sinner as can be found on God's earth. Can you forgive me? Dare I ask it? At last, at last I make full reparation; I repent me, in dust and ashes; I repent, and I restore all fourfold." But here Charlotte Home had risen suddenly to her feet. She came up close to Mr. Harman, and taking his hand raised it to her lips.
"My husband has told me all. I, I quite forgive you," she said.
Mr. Harman glanced at the clergyman. "Your husband?" he said.