‘Mother,’ said the girl, as she dried her wet eyes, ‘if you imagine for a moment that I think of Fred in any other light than that of another woman’s husband, you are very much mistaken. If he were free to marry to-morrow, he wouldn’t ask _me_ to be his wife.’ (‘More shame for him,’ interpolated Mrs Berry.) ‘He is grieving too much to dream of marrying again, even if he were in the world. His heart is buried in his wife’s grave.’ ‘More shame for him,’ repeated her mother, ‘and with that poor little child running about without a father to his name.’ ‘Such a thing has never entered my imagination for a minute,’ continued Rhoda. ‘I am glad that we are friends, and proud that he should consider me worthy to give him advice, but there will never be anything more between us. How could there be?’ ‘I understood he had some idea of leaving the Church.’ ‘He alluded to it, mother, but I do not suppose he will have the courage to carry it out. It would take the spirit of a hero, or a martyr, to brave the sneers and contempt and abuse of the world for taking such a step. And Frederick was never very strong-minded. He must have altered greatly since I knew him if he has the courage of his own opinions.’ ‘He’s not like you, then, my dear, who have, I verily believe, the courage of a lion. But I mustn’t stop chattering any longer, or we shall have no dinner to-day. But think over Uncle Will’s proposal again, Rhoda, before you finally make up your mind. He’s too good a man to throw a girl’s misfortune in her teeth. And we shall never get such a chance again--never.’ Rhoda smiled faintly, but she shook her head all the same. Never had her sin stared her so unpleasantly in the face before. To be disgraced for Frederick’s sake--to bear her shame silently and alone--to have to toil through life to maintain her child--all this she had realised long ago, and made up her mind to bear courageously. But to stand in the way of her mother’s well-doing--to have to see her toiling, even to old age, because of her daughter’s fault--to know that she stood between her and comfort, between her and the love of her own family, between her and rest, and a home more fitted to her position than the one they had occupied since Rhoda’s father died--_this_ was the bitterest portion of the cup she had been called upon to drink.