"But why didn't you tell me what you had heard, and ask me to explain it? You see how easily I could have done so." "Somehow I didn't like to. It seemed like doubting you even to repeat the lies. I knew they were lies all the time, and I loved you better than anybody else in the world. What consequence was it to me what other people said about you?" How to clear the matter up, neither of the girls knew. For it would be still more cruel and dishonorable, as they thought, to tell what Bertie had done, now that she had confessed it herself and was lying so low. But Katie had learned to "commit her way unto the Lord," and she was not troubled any more about the matter. "I should think you'd hate Bertie," said Tessa, with Italian intensity. "I don't see how you could bring yourself to stay there and take care of her when you knew how much she had injured you. I should have felt like putting poison into her drink or smothering her with the pillows." "No, you wouldn't," said the other, laughing, but immediately becoming grave again. "You couldn't hate any one who was dying, and besides, it wouldn't be like Jesus." "I don't understand." "Don't you see? Jesus gave up his life for sinners, for those who were his enemies. It makes me love him whenever I think of it, and I want to be like him. This was a good chance, and I think he helped me to overcome all kind of hard feeling. I only longed to do everything I could to make her more comfortable." "I wish I could love Jesus as you do. My father used to tell me religion was just the priests deceiving silly women, and reminded me how the robbers and beggars in Italy would kneel before the crucifixes, shed tears as they said their prayers, and then turn away and be just as wicked as before. But to you it all seems real, and it, or something, makes you just the best girl I ever saw. But I can't feel so." "Yes, you can; our Lord Jesus says '_whosoever_ will, may take of the water of life freely,' and 'him that cometh unto me, I will in no wise cast out.' You must be one of the 'whosoever.' O Tessa, I only wish you'd come!" But Tessa did not answer, and Katie, thinking her asleep, soon followed her example. CHAPTER XVI. DECIDING. It was about four weeks later in the season. Miss Eunice's "tea-party," which had not been held for a long time, was gathered at the great house; not now in the pleasant sitting-room, but on the still pleasanter shaded lawn, where the girls occupied pretty rustic seats, while the tea was spread on little green tables, around which they were grouped as inclination prompted them.