“Tempted and friendless, self-abandoned to the evil impulse of the moment, this woman may have committed herself headlong to the act which she now vainly repents. She may long to make atonement, and may not know how to begin. All her energies may be crushed under the despair and horror of herself, out of which the truest repentance grows. Is such a woman as this all wicked, all vile? I deny it! She may have a noble nature; and she may show it nobly yet. Give her the opportunity she needs, and our poor fallen fellow-creature may take her place again among the best of us--honored, blameless, happy, once more!” Mercy’s eyes, resting eagerly on him while he was speaking, dropped again despondingly when he had done. “There is no such future as that,” she answered, “for the woman whom I am thinking of. She has lost her opportunity. She has done with hope.” Julian gravely considered with himself for a moment. “Let us understand each other,” he said. “She has committed an act of deception to the injury of another woman. Was that what you told me?” “Yes.” “And she has gained something to her own advantage by the act.” “Yes.” “Is she threatened with discovery?” “She is safe from discovery--for the present, at least.” “Safe as long as she closes her lips?” “As long as she closes her lips.” “There is her opportunity!” cried Julian. “Her future is before her. She has not done with hope!” With clasped hands, in breathless suspense, Mercy looked at that inspiriting face, and listened to those golden words. “Explain yourself,” she said. “Tell her, through me, what she must do.” “Let her own the truth,” answered Julian, “without the base fear of discovery to drive her to it. Let her do justice to the woman whom she has wronged, while that woman is still powerless to expose her. Let her sacrifice everything that she has gained by the fraud to the sacred duty of atonement. If she can do that--for conscience’ sake, and for pity’s sake--to her own prejudice, to her own shame, to her own loss--then her repentance has nobly revealed the noble nature that is in her; then she is a woman to be trusted, respected, beloved! If I saw the Pharisees and fanatics of this lower earth passing her by in contempt, I would hold out my hand to her before them all. I would say to her in her solitude and her affliction, ‘Rise, poor wounded heart! Beautiful, purified soul, God’s angels rejoice over you! Take your place among the noblest of God’s creatures!’” In those last sentences he unconsciously repeated the language in which he had spoken, years since, to his congregation in the chapel of the Refuge. With tenfold power and tenfold persuasion they now found their way again to Mercy’s heart. Softly, suddenly, mysteriously, a change passed over her. Her troubled face grew beautifully still. The shifting light of terror and suspense vanished from her grand gray eyes, and left in them the steady inner glow of a high and pure resolve.