And again the woman's head sank into the downy hiding-place. Slowly great tears welled up into Margaret Woodford's eyes, as she saw and heard the true nature of the secret of Oaklands, and understood. The quiet man stood out in heroic light, and yet to him how small a matter the punishment inflicted by the law to the daily dread--the covering of the old fault--and the daily, hourly strain to prevent a further fall. Yet here it was in all its hideousness, displayed to Margaret Woodford--the one outside element who had been received into a stricken house. For a moment emotion held her silent, and then, with quick steps, she moved across the room, and sank down by Mrs. Medhurst's couch. "Don't--don't cry--you poor--poor woman! You have restored my property," she said gently--the tears rolling unbidden down her sweet face. "Dear Mrs. Medhurst, _how_ you must have suffered--and to think you thought I would ever say anything. Oh, I can't bear to dwell upon it! You must let me help you in your trouble--and the necklace? Of course you liked to look at it--everyone does--and you may take it whenever you like, and keep it all your life, if you wish--I shall never ask for it----" "You would do that for _me_--a thief?" gasped Mrs. Medhurst, starting up from her pillows, and gazing with amazement at the girl before her. "Yes, yes--indeed I would--I offer it freely: don't doubt me. You have all been sweet and good to me--do you think I forget? If there is a secret to be kept at Oaklands, remember I am a member of this household now--you welcomed me into your home--and the mystery can remain always unsolved by the outside world, so far as I am concerned." There was silence in the room for a few minutes; Margaret still knelt by Mrs. Medhurst's couch, gently chafing her hands, while the other cried quietly with an abandonment of grief difficult to overcome. Presently Margaret rose and gently released the cold hands she held, and turned to leave the room. Mr. Medhurst's voice arrested her footsteps. As she reached the door, he took one stride towards her, and held out his hand: "We can never, never thank you sufficiently for your generous attitude of mind, Miss Woodford. I don't understand why you spare us?" "Mr. Medhurst, the reason is, we are all answerable to the same Master," she answered gently, as she accepted his hand. "What master?" he answered, looking puzzled. "One Who gave us this command for all time and all ages, 'Bear ye one another's burdens and so fulfil the law of Christ,'" she replied. "And that is your religion?" he interrogated. "It is an order of the King of kings sent to me by His servant, and I love to try and obey it--because----" "Yes--because----?" "I love Him, Christ, my Lord and my God," she answered softly. Mrs. Medhurst's sobs had ceased now, and except for the ticking of the clock, there was silence in the room. Then: