“Perhaps not _always_. But in this case, what is left him but revision of his former sentence against Estelle? Has he any other daughter?—has he any son?—has he even a niece or nephew, or any other heir to his vast estate?” “It is true he has not; you put the point pertinently. Yet, that circumstance alone would not sway his conduct! The opinion of the world is the breath of his nostrils.” “Eureka! you have found it?” “Then I am more confounded than ever! being at a great loss to know how his love of the world should move him in favor of her whom the world has forsaken.” “There you are mistaken. Most people _are_ confounded, who reason from false premises. The world did not forsake Estelle! Estelle forsook the world; you pursued her in such hot haste, as not to have first discovered this fact?” “What do you tell me!” exclaimed Lord Montressor, in a sort of glad surprise and incredulity. “That there is not a woman in England more beloved and respected by those from whom love and respect are most valuable, than our Estelle.” “Dazzleright! this cannot be so! The world is not so just to the unfortunate.” “The world, like the devil, is not half so black as it is painted. ‘Listen! reaction is commensurate with action.’ It was inevitable, at first, when the suddenness and enormity of the charge brought against Estelle had shocked her friends and acquaintances from their propriety, that she should have been regarded with abhorrence. But when that panic was past; when people had time to become composed and thoughtful; and, above all, when the simple FACTS developed and proved upon the trial had replaced the exaggerated _fictions_ of gossip; and when it was understood that Estelle had, from the moment of her arrest at the altar, reserved herself from the presence of Lord Montressor, and had, as soon as possible, withdrawn herself from his knowledge, there was a mighty reaction in her favor.” “Thank God! Oh, thank God for that! Thank God that the public were able to know Estelle and to do her justice!” exclaimed Lord Montressor, who, though in heart might despise the fluctuations of popular opinion for himself, yet dreaded it for Estelle. “Thank God for all things, and the world for nothing,” replied Dazzleright; “Estelle’s whole life of goodness was not to be abrogated by one storm of calumny! That was a crisis in which the power of her own personal righteousness saved her. Your own name, character, reputation and popularity also served her well!” “Whatever of good repute, or ‘golden opinions’ I possessed were at her service—were under her feet, if that would have saved them from the burning plow-shares!” said Lord Montressor, fervently.