"'I would give half of my goods,' said he, in a tone that went to the heart of every one who heard him--'yes, I would willingly have given everything I possess if this misfortune had not happened. To have condemned innocence is a frightful thought.' Then, looking round him at the people, he said, in a solemn voice, 'God is the only infallible judge, the only one that cannot be deceived. He knows everything. He alone knew the hiding-place in which the ring had remained until now. The judges of the earth are near-sighted and prone to be deceived. It is rare here below that innocence suffers and vice triumphs. The invisible Judge, who will recompense one day all good actions and punish all bad ones, has decreed that even here innocence shall not always suffer from suspicion, nor hidden crime remain always concealed.'" While Amelia had been relating this interesting narrative, Mary had been lifting up her heart in silent thanksgiving to God for clearing her character from every stain of suspicion and establishing her innocence in the minds of her friends. By the time Amelia had finished her story, they had arrived at the door of the castle. CHAPTER XVII. REPARATION. The Count, the Countess, and the guests who were at the castle, were assembled in the drawing-room when Amelia and Mary entered. The worthy minister had arrived before them, and had been reciting to a deeply-interested audience, the story of James and Mary and their life at Pine Cottage. He had painted in a touching manner the conduct of the good old man during his residence at Pine Farm, emphasising the love and respect which he bore to the Count and his family. He told of Mary's activity, of her filial piety, and her patience and modesty, until tears streamed from the eyes of his hearers. At this moment the Countess Amelia, holding Mary by one hand and in the other the basket of flowers, entered the brilliantly-lighted room. Mary was welcomed by all, and loaded with congratulations. The Count himself took her kindly by the hand, and said, "Poor child, how pale and thin you look. It was our hasty judgment that brought your misery upon you, and we must now spare nothing, that happiness may once more be restored to you, and that the faded flowers may once more bloom on your young cheeks. You were driven from your father's house, but in future you shall have it for your own property." The Countess kissed Mary, pressed her to her heart, called her her daughter, and, taking from her finger the ring which had caused so many misfortunes, she said, "Here, my dear child, although your piety is a great deal more precious than the large diamond which sparkles in this ring, you must accept this present as a feeble compensation for the wrong you have suffered, and as a token of the sincere attachment and maternal tenderness I feel towards you."