The Carlingford needlewoman stood opposite her, gazing with eyes that went beyond that figure, and yet dwelt upon it, at so wonderful a spectacle. Many a terrible secret of life unknown to the minister's gentle mother throbbed in her heart; but she stood in a pause of wonder before that weaker woman. The sight of her stayed the passionate current for a moment, and brought the desperate woman to a pause. Then she turned to the young man, who stood speechless by his mother's side-- "You are a priest, and yet you do not curse," she said. "Is God as careless of a curse as of a blessing? _She_ thinks He will save the Innocents yet. She does not know that He stands by like a man, and sees them murdered, and shines and rains all the same. God! No--He never interferes. Good-bye," she added, suddenly, holding out to him the thin hand upon which, even in that dreadful moment, his eye still caught the traces of her work, the scars of the needle, and stains of the coarse colour. "If you ever see me again, I shall be a famous woman, Mr. Vincent. You will have a little of the trail of my glory, and be able to furnish details of my latter days. This good Miss Smith here will tell you of the life it was before; but if I should make a distinguished end after all, come to see me then--never mind where. I speak madly, to be sure, but you don't understand me. There--not a word. You preach very well, but I am beyond preaching now--Good-bye." "No," said Vincent, clutching her hand--"never, if you go with that horrible intention in your eyes; I will say no farewell to such an errand as this." The eyes in their blank brightness paused at him for a moment before they passed to the vacant air on which they were always fixed--paused with a certain glance of troubled amusement, the lightning of former days. "You flatter me," she said, steadily, with the old habitual movement of her mouth. "It is years since anybody has taken the trouble to read any intention in my eyes. But don't you understand yet that a woman's intention is the last thing she is likely to perform in this world? We do have meanings now and then, we poor creatures, but they seldom come to much. Good-bye, good-bye!" "You cannot look at me," said Vincent, with a conscious incoherence, reason or argument being out of the question. "What is it you see behind there? Where are you looking with those dreadful eyes?"