"And did you never feel all this time," said Lucy, steadily, "that you too had done something wrong." "Not till this moment," replied Millie, her tears now flowing unchecked; and Lucy, as she watched them, almost wondered to see how they softened her features, and turned them all womanly again. "Till now," she continued, "I believed myself injured, and supporting my injury with the dignity of a Roman matron; but I had not forgiven, no, not in my inmost thoughts. I believed it to be beyond all necessity." "Did you never remember that he was alone, and in prison, reaping the bitter fruits of deceit?" "I did; but he deserved that, and more." "I have heard," said Lucy, meekly, "that we have no light to judge, and that nothing but mercy and forgiveness suits us fallen creatures. But more; did you never think that when those prison horrors were over, prosperity and wealth succeeded. Did you not know that you were supremely loved still? Did you not know the power your intellect gave you to direct his aright? You did; and yet you left him to the flattery of such foolish admiration as mine." "Spare me, oh, spare me," said Millie; wringing her hands, "why do you torment me so?" "Oh, Millie," Lucy replied, hurrying to her, and kneeling by her side, taking her hand in hers, and looking up entreatingly. "I don't know how I have had the courage to talk as I have done, but it was to make you forgive him. Oh, do Millie. You know he never admired me, he only wished to make me his friend, to reconcile you, for you would not even take in his letters, and what was he to do, unless he forced you back, as you know he has a right, but he wants you to come willingly." At this moment the clock struck, and Lucy continued even more earnestly. "For my sake, for his, for yours; for, look how pale and ill you are, and I know you love him, and he is so unhappy." All this was hurriedly spoken, almost in a breath, for she heard a footstep upon the stair--it came nearer, they both looked to the door, it opened, and Beauclerc entered. Another moment, and he had lifted his weeping wife in his arms, blessing Lucy as he did so. She waited but one minute longer--to see them together, and then she left them, and ran down stairs. The old butler was waiting anxiously. "All is well," she said, as she flitted past him. He was going to ask further, but she was gone down the hill, and across the streets, and home, before she stopped to think, and then she went to the garret chamber to seek for Mabel. She found her sitting on her travelling trunk--with her habit on, but her hat laid at her side--thinking sadly, and seriously; but when she saw her, she looked up with ready interest. "I have said all you told me, and something more," said Lucy, flinging her bonnet down, seating herself on the floor, and laying her head by her side, upon the box. "Well, and what success did you meet with, my sweet Lucy?"