At this remembrance of his mother and at Hazel's careful love, he broke down and wept, his face in her lap. 'Now see!' she whispered. 'She'll come back, Ed'ard, when the anger's overpast.' 'The anger of good people is never overpast, Hazel.' 'See, I'll write her a letter, Ed'ard, and I'll say I'm a wicked girl, and she's to teach me better ways. She'll come like Foxy for bones, Ed'ard.' Comfort stole into Edward's heart. 'And see, my dear, I'll send his baby to him, and maybe, after--' She stumbled into silence. 'What, Hazel?' 'Maybe, Ed'ard, after--a long and long while after--' She began to cry, covering her face. 'Oh, what for canna you see, my soul,' she whispered, 'as I love you true?' Edward looked into her eyes, and he did see. Strangely as an old forgotten tale, there came to him the frail hope of the possibility of joy. And with it some faith, storm-tossed and faint, but still living, in Hazel's ultimate beauty and truth. He did not know this could be. He only knew it was so. He did not know how it was that she, whom all reviled, was pure and shining to him again, while the world grovelled in slime. But so it was. 'Harkee, Ed'ard!' she said; 'I'm agoing to mother you till she comes back. And some day, when you've bin so kind as to forgive me, maybe I unna be mother to you, but--anything you want me to be. And, maybe, there'll be a--a--bridal for you yet, my soul, and your little uns running down the batch.' 'Yes, maybe. But don't let's talk of such things yet, not for many years. They are so vile.' She was cut to the heart, but she only said softly: 'Not for many years, my soul! I'm mothering of you now!' 'That's what I want,' he said, and fell asleep while she stroked' his tired head. Peace settled again on the chapel and parsonage, and a muted happiness. Summer weather had returned for a fleeting interval. The wild bees were busy again revelling in the late flowers, but taking their pleasure sadly; for the flowers were pale and rain-washed, and the scent and the honey were fled. 'Eh! I wish I could bring 'em all in afore the frosses, and keep 'em the winter long,' Hazel said. 'But they've seen good times. It inna so bad for folks to die as have seen good times. Afore I'm old and like to die, I want to see good times, Ed'ard--good times along with you.' 'What sort of good times?'