"As Agnes Harland was treated, perhaps," said Jack, interrupting her. Then repenting the next moment, "Dear Anne, forgive me; I am wrong. I should not have said so much." He would have taken Anne's hand, but she repulsed him. "Yes, as Agnes Harland was treated," said she sternly. "Even so. You have no right to expect any thing else at my hands. I have had many regrets, many misgivings, as to this matter, but I will allow them to influence me no more. The Church is more to me than father or brother or friend. I am the vowed bride of Christ, and I will be faithful to my vow—ay, though I had to walk over the dead body of every friend I have in the world. I will be faithful to my vows and to my conscience. Now you know what you have to expect." "Very well," said Jack. "My life is in your hands. But, Anne," he added, looking fixedly at her, "are you sure that you are faithful to your conscience? Are you sure your conscience is not telling you this minute, that what you have heard from Agnes and from me is true, every word true? Are you not at this very moment resisting the Spirit which tells you that you have been mistaken and wrong hitherto; that shows, you all your built-up righteousness to be more worthless than rags and dust, and pleads with you to forsake your errors and turn to the truth; to leave the broken cisterns hewed by man, and seek the fountain of living waters? I believe it is so. Anne, Anne, beware! For me, I am in God's hand, and no real harm can chance to me, but I tremble for you. Anne, Anne, beware how you grieve the Spirit by resisting your convictions of truth!" "Time is wearing away, my son, and it were well you were on your road," said Master Lucas, entering the room. "The days are shorter than they were. Shall you return to-night?" "Yes, father, if I can finish my business," replied Jack; and then desirous of diverting his attention from Anne, he said hastily, "I was thinking whether there was any token I could carry to the old priest at Holford. He is a good-natured old man and was kind to me, and I should like to show that I remembered him." "That is well thought on, my son. Do you get my saddle-bags, and I will put up some sweetmeats and comfits for Father John's sweet tooth, and also something for Uncle Thomas. We must not forget old friends." Jack went for the bags, and while his father was filling them, he found opportunity for another word with his sister. "Anne, I am sorry if I have grieved you." "Words cost very little," said Anne coldly. "Let me see you confess and abjure your errors, and I shall know how to believe you."