"Take these, Cousin Malcolm," cried Dorothy. "Here are a few stones of great value. They belonged to my mother." Madge was sitting dejectedly upon the lowest step of the staircase. Dorothy held her jewel-box toward me, and in the midst of the diamonds and gold I saw the heart John Manners had given her. I did not take the box. "Do you offer me this, too--even this?" I said, lifting the heart from the box by its chain.--"Yes, yes," cried Dorothy, "even that, gladly, gladly." I replaced it in the box. Then spoke Madge, while she tried to check the falling tears:--"Dorothy, you are a cruel, selfish girl." "Oh, Madge," cried Dorothy, stepping to her side and taking her hand. "How can you speak so unkindly to me?" "You have everything good," interrupted Madge. "You have beauty, wealth, eyesight, and yet you would not leave to me the joy of helping him. I could not see, and you hurried past me that you might be first to give him the help of which I was the first to think." Dorothy was surprised at the outburst from Madge, and kneeled by her side. "We may both help Cousin Malcolm," she said. "No, no," responded Madge, angrily. "Your jewels are more than enough. He would have no need of my poor offering." I took Madge's hand and said, "I shall accept help from no one but you, Madge; from no one but you." "I will go to our rooms for your box," said Dorothy, who had begun to see the trouble. "I will fetch it for you." "No, I will fetch it," answered Madge. She arose, and I led her to the foot of the staircase. When she returned she held in her hands a purse and a little box of jewels. These she offered to me, but I took only the purse, saying: "I accept the purse. It contains more money than I shall need. From its weight I should say there are twenty gold pounds sterling." "Twenty-five," answered Madge. "I have saved them, believing that the time might come when they would be of great use to me. I did not know the joy I was saving for myself." Tears came to my eyes, and Dorothy wept silently. "Will you not take the jewels also?" asked Madge. "No," I responded; "the purse will more than pay my expenses to France, where I have wealthy relatives. There I may have my mother's estate for the asking, and I can repay you the gold. I can never repay your kindness." "I hope you will never offer to repay the gold," said Madge. "I will not," I gladly answered. "As to the kindness," she said, "you have paid me in advance for that many, many times over." I then said farewell, promising to send letters telling of my fortune. As I was leaving I bent forward and kissed Madge upon the forehead, while she gently pressed my hand, but did not speak a word. "Cousin Malcolm," said Dorothy, who held my other hand, "you are a strong, gentle, noble man, and I want you to say that you forgive me." "I do forgive you, Dorothy, from my heart. I could not blame you if I wished to do so, for you did not know what you were doing."