"My lord," she said, in a soft low voice, "you have been very unfortunate, and perhaps are less guilty than you think yourself, and oh, I pity you with my whole heart."
Involuntarily she took his hand and pressed it to her lips, and he caught her in his arms and clasped her to his heart, his tears falling over her like rain.
"My dear child, my only friend, God bless you for your kind sympathy. Is there any hope for a sinner like me?"
"My lord," she whispered, "there is more joy in Heaven over one sinner that repenteth, than over ninety and nine just persons that need no repentance. Receive this great truth into your heart, and you will find the peace you need." She spoke with such earnestness, that a gleam of hope shot into the sad eyes of the Earl.
"Dorothy, I will think over your words."
"Pray over them, my lord; we must not only will, but do the thing that is right."
"Will you pray for me, Dorothy?"
"I have always done so, my lord, since the first hour we met, and you expressed such a kind interest in a poor friendless orphan girl."
"Look upon me always as a friend—a father, Dorothy; you know not the strong tie that unites my destiny with yours. Perhaps you will know one day, and pity and forgive me for the injury you have received at my hands."
"My lord, you did your best to serve me. How could you imagine that Gilbert could act as he has done? The blame, if there is any, rests entirely with him. It cannot cancel the vast debt of gratitude I owe to you."