And there was Alice, looking at me with eager, solicitous, inquiring eyes, anxious to know what had been said, what had happened, wondering at my strange mood, trying to find out, with her own thoughts and looks, how I felt. Alice could not comprehend me. When her first belief, that I did not care for him, was shaken, she could find no reason for my conduct, no cause for all I had done; she did not understand my perversity; in the motives of her own simple Christian heart she found no clue to the problem of mine. She put no questions to me, but sat, where _he_ had been sitting, sad, disapproving, full of wonder; her hope disappointed and her love grieved, aware I was wrong, yet so reluctant to think so. Poor Alice! I was a great charge to her, and a perplexing one; she did not know how to deal with me. When I was able to command my voice, I spoke to her. "Alice, Mr. Southcote has been here," I said; "but he has promised not to come back again. He will never intrude into my presence again, he says, till I call him, and I am not likely to do that. When anything happens, Alice--I intended to have said so before--you will write to him without delay; remember, I told you so; he has a right to that." The words struck me strangely as I repeated them. Had I already begun, according to his own proposing, to calculate what his _rights_ were? but he had warned me that he would find no satisfaction in that. "And is this all, Miss Hester?" said Alice, looking at me wistfully; "oh, darling, well you know I've never said a word. I've never dared to take part with him that never should have needed help from a poor woman like me, but I can't keep silent--Miss Hester--I can't now; what's in my heart I must say, for you're my own dear child. Miss Hester, dear, I can't help if you're angry. But what do you think a true friend can pray for you? one that loves you dear above all the world; what do you think she would be obliged to pray, the first thing of all that was in her heart?" I was much startled by the question, for it was at once perfectly unexpected, and very solemnly and seriously put. I did not answer, but looked at her with earnestness as great as her own. "First of all, before even the safety, and the blessing, and the joy, oh, Miss Hester," cried Alice, with strange emotion, "that you may be made to see which is good and which is evil, and to choose the right way. I dare not ask the blessing first, darling, I dare not! I'd lay down my life for an hour's comfort to you, Miss Hester; you know it's not boasting, you know it's true; but you're following a wrong way, and sorrow is the right thing to come to that rather than joy. I cannot help it--I cannot help it--you may put me away from you, as you've put a better love than mine, but I must say what is in my heart."