‘You have said nothing but what it was good to say,’ he said hurriedly. ‘Do not be angry with yourself for having spoken to me. I am not unworthy of it. It will do me good, and it cannot have harmed you. I do not even know your name’--here he made a slight pause, hoping she might tell him--‘mine is Oswald Meredith. I am not much good, but if anything could make me better it would be hearing what you have said. Life is perhaps too pleasant to me--and I don’t take thought enough of what is best; but I will think of you and try,’ said Oswald, with a little innocent, honest, natural hypocrisy. He meant it for the moment though he did not mean it. A little glow of virtuous feeling rose in his breast. Yes, to be sure, he, too, would think of what was best in life and do it--why not? it would be good and right in itself, and agreeable to her. To be sure he would do it. The resolution was very easy and gave him quite a warm glow of virtue and goodness. He had no secret wickedness to give up, or struggles with favourite vices to look forward to. He would be good, certainly, and made up his mind to it with all the bland confidence and light-hearted certainty of a child. And then he went across the street to the ‘House’ and put down his name for such a subscription as made the heart leap within the sober bosom of Sister Mary Jane. CHAPTER XXI. A CONFIDENCE. ‘Cara, I want to tell you something,’ said Oswald. ‘Look here; here is a comfortable chair. Never mind your aunt; my mother will take care of her. I never have you now, not for half a minute. If I were not in love with her, I should hate your aunt--she is always there. I never can manage to say a word to you.’ This was said in Mrs. Meredith’s drawing-room after dinner. Of course it is needless to say that Mrs. Meredith, apprised of Miss Cherry’s arrival, had immediately done her part of neighbourly and friendly kindness by asking her to dinner at once. ‘Never! She has been here two days,’ said Cara. ‘Two days is a very long time, especially when new thoughts are coming into one’s mind, and new resolutions. I think we are all too worldly-minded, Cara. Life is a more serious thing than you and I have been thinking. A great revolution has occurred in my thoughts.’ ‘Oh, Oswald! you have been hearing some great preacher; he has made you think? Who was it? I have so often heard of things like that. It must be my fault,’ said Cara, piteously; ‘it never has any effect upon me--but perhaps I never heard anyone good enough.’ ‘That is it,’ said Oswald. ‘It was not a preacher, but someone I met casually. I have made up my mind to be a great deal more in earnest--much more serious.’ ‘Oh, Oswald! I am so glad! That was all you wanted to make you very, very nice--quite what one wished.’