During dinner I could scarcely help observing how Percivale’s eyes followed Wynnie, or, rather, every now and then settled down upon her face. That she was aware, almost conscious of this, I could not doubt. One glance at her satisfied me of that. But certain words of the apostle kept coming again and again into my mind; for they were winged words those, and even when they did not enter they fluttered their wings at my window: “Whatsoever is not of faith is sin.” And I kept reminding myself that I must heave the load of sin off me, as I had been urging poor Mrs. Stokes to do; for God was ever seeking to lift it, only he could not without my help, for that would be to do me more harm than good by taking the one thing in which I was like him away from me--my action. Therefore I must have faith in him, and not be afraid; for surely all fear is sin, and one of the most oppressive sins from which the Lord came to save us. Before dinner was over the horse was at the door. I mounted, and set out for Squire Tresham’s. I found him a rough but kind-hearted elderly man. When I told him the story of the poor woman’s misery, he was quite concerned at her suffering. When I produced the sovereign he would not receive it at first, but requested me to take it back to her and say she must keep it by way of an apology for his rudeness about her ginger-beer; for I took care to tell him the whole story, thinking it might be a lesson to him too. But I begged him to take it; for it would, I thought, not only relieve her mind more thoroughly, but help to keep her from coming to think lightly of the affair afterwards. Of course I could not tell him that I had advanced the money, for that would have quite prevented him from receiving it. I then got on my horse again, and rode straight to the cottage. “Well, Mrs. Stokes,” I said, “it’s all over now. That’s one good thing done. How do you feel yourself now?” “I feel better now, sir. I hope God will forgive me.” “God does forgive you. But there are more things you need forgiveness for. It is not enough to get rid of one sin. We must get rid of all our sins, you know. They’re not nice things, are they, to keep in our hearts? It is just like shutting up nasty corrupting things, dead carcasses, under lock and key, in our most secret drawers, as if they were precious jewels.” “I wish I could be good, like some people, but I wasn’t made so. There’s my husband now. I do believe he never do anything wrong in his life. But then, you see, he would let a child take him in.” “And far better too. Infinitely better to be taken in. Indeed there is no harm in being taken in; but there is awful harm in taking in.” She did not reply, and I went on: “I think you would feel a good deal better yet, if you would send for your daughter and her husband now, and make it up with them, especially seeing you are so ill.” “I will, sir. I will directly. I’m tired of having my own way. But I was made so.”