"You mistake, sir; my acquaintance has not lain so much among that class of sinners as to give me much experience of the way in which they are treated. But, judging from what I have seen, I should say they meet with full as much leniency as they deserve; and supposing they do not--I know there are plenty of sickly sentimentalists just now who reserve all their interest and regard for criminals--why not pick out one of these to help you in your task of washing the blackamoor white? Why choose me to be imposed upon--my household into which to intrude your protégée? Why were my innocent children to be exposed to corruption? I say," said Mr Bradshaw, stamping his foot, "how dared you come into this house, where you were looked upon as a minister of religion, with a lie in your mouth? How dared you single me out, of all people, to be gulled and deceived, and pointed at through the town as the person who had taken an abandoned woman into his house to teach his daughters?" "I own my deceit was wrong and faithless." "Yes! you can own it, now it is found out! There is small merit in that, I think!" "Sir! I claim no merit. I take shame to myself. I did not single you out. You applied to me with your proposal that Ruth should be your children's governess." "Pah!" "And the temptation was too great-- No! I will not say that--but the temptation was greater than I could stand--it seemed to open out a path of usefulness." "Now, don't let me hear you speak so," said Mr Bradshaw, blazing up. "I can't stand it. It is too much to talk in that way when the usefulness was to consist in contaminating my innocent girls." "God knows that if I had believed there had been any danger of such contamination--God knows how I would have died sooner than have allowed her to enter your family. Mr Bradshaw, you believe me, don't you?" asked Mr Benson, earnestly. "I really must be allowed the privilege of doubting what you say in future," said Mr Bradshaw, in a cold, contemptuous manner. "I have deserved this," Mr Benson replied. "But," continued he, after a moment's pause, "I will not speak of myself, but of Ruth. Surely, sir, the end I aimed at (the means I took to obtain it were wrong; you cannot feel that more than I do) was a right one; and you will not--you cannot say, that your children have suffered from associating with her. I had her in my family, under the watchful eyes of three anxious persons for a year or more; we saw faults--no human being is without them--and poor Ruth's were but slight venial errors; but we saw no sign of a corrupt mind--no glimpse of boldness or forwardness--no token of want of conscientiousness; she seemed, and was, a young and gentle girl, who had been led astray before she fairly knew what life was." "I suppose most depraved women have been innocent in their time," said Mr Bradshaw, with bitter contempt.