"Good heavens, I have done the most dishonourable action!" cried Vincent, betrayed into sudden exclamation by the horror of the discovery. Then he paused, turning an alarmed look upon his new friend. She took it very calmly. She glanced up at him with a comic glance in her eyes, and a twitch at the corners of her mouth. Notwithstanding last night--notwithstanding the anxiety which she dared not move in her own person to alleviate--she was still capable of being amused. Her eyes said, "What now?" with no very alarming apprehensions. The situation was a frightful one for poor Vincent. "You will be quite justified in turning me out of your house," he said, clearing his throat, and in great confusion; "but if you will believe it, I never till this moment saw how atrocious---- Mrs. Hilyard, I was in the vestry; the window was open; I heard your conversation last night." For a moment Vincent had all the punishment he expected, and greater. Her eyes blazed upon him out of that pale dark face with a certain contempt and lofty indifference. There was a pause. Mr. Vincent crushed his best hat in his hands, and sat speechless doing penance. He was dismayed with the discovery of his own meanness. Nobody could deliver such a cutting sentence as he was pronouncing on himself. "All the world might have listened, so far as I am concerned," she said, after a while, quietly enough. "I am sorry you did it; but the discovery is worse for yourself than for me." Then, after another pause, "I don't mean to quarrel. I am glad for my own sake, though sorry for yours. Now you know better than I can tell you. There were some pleasant flowers of speech to be gathered in that dark garden," she continued, with another odd upward gleam of her eyes. "We must have startled your clerical ideas rather. At the moment, however, Mr. Vincent, people like Colonel Mildmay and myself mean what we say." "If I had gained my knowledge in a legitimate way," said the shame-stricken minister, not venturing to look her in the face, "I should have said that I hoped it was only for the moment." Mrs. Hilyard laid down her work, and looked across at him with undisguised amusement. "I am sorry there is nobody here to perceive this beautiful situation," she said. "Who would not have their ghostly father commit himself, if he repented after this fashion? Thank you, Mr. Vincent, for what you don't say. And now we shall drop the subject, don't you think? Were the deacons all charmed with the tea-meeting last night?" "You want me to go now," said Vincent, rising, with disconcerted looks.