Her uncle's countenance resumed its habitual severity, and, taking Beulah's hand, he led her into that quietest of all quiet places, his study. Seating himself, and drawing her to his side, he said: "Was it meeting Claudia that distressed you so much? That child is very warmly attached to you. She raved about you constantly during her illness. So did Lilly. I did not understand the relationship then, or I should have interfered, and carried you to her. I called to see Mr. and Mrs. Grayson last week, to remove the difficulties in the way of your intercourse with Claudia, but they were not at home. I will arrange matters so that you may be with Claudia as often as possible. You have been wronged, child, I know; but try to bury it; it is all past now." He softly smoothed back her hair as he spoke. "No, sir; it never will be past; it will always be burning here in my heart." "I thought you professed to believe in the Bible." She looked up instantly, and answered: "I do, sir. I do." "Then your belief is perfectly worthless; for the Bible charges you to 'forgive and love your enemies,' and here you are trying to fan your hate into an everlasting flame." She saw the scornful curl of his lips, and, sinking down beside him, she laid her head on his knee, and said hastily: "I know it is wrong, sinful, to feel toward Mrs. Grayson as I do. Yes, sir; the Bible tells me it is very sinful; but I have been so miserable, I could not help hating her. But I will try to do so no more. I will ask God to help me forgive her." His face flushed even to his temples, and then the blood receded, leaving it like sculptured marble. Unable or unwilling to answer, he put his hands on her head, softly, reverently, as though he touched something ethereal. He little dreamed that, even then, that suffering heart was uplifted to the Throne of Grace, praying the Father that she might so live and govern herself that he might come to believe the Bible, which her clear insight too surely told her he despised. Oh! Protean temptation. Even as she knelt, with her protector's hands resting on her brow, ubiquitous evil suggested the thought: "Is he not kinder, and better, than anyone you ever knew? Has not Mrs. Grayson a pew in the most fashionable church? Did not Eugene tell you he saw her there, regularly, every Sunday? Professing Christianity, she injured you; rejecting it, he has guarded and most generously aided you. 'By their fruits ye shall judge.'" Very dimly all this passed through her mind. She was perplexed and troubled at the confused ideas veiling her trust. "Beulah, I have an engagement, and must leave you. Stay here, if you like, or do as you please with yourself. I shall not be home to tea, so good-night." She looked pained, but remained silent. He smiled, and, drawing out his watch, said gayly: