"Say what the preacher may. He must be a good God who makes such creatures as you, and sends them into the world to comfort poor wretches. Follow your own sweet heart, Grace, and torment yourself no more with these dark dreams!" "My heart?" cried she, looking down; "it is deceitful and desperately wicked." "I wish mine were too, then," said Tom: "but it cannot be, as long as it is so unlike yours. Now stop, Grace, I want to speak to you." There was a gate in front of them, leading into the road. As they came to it, Tom lingered with his hand upon the top bar, that Grace might stop. She did stop, half-frightened. Why did he call her Grace? "I wish to speak to you on one matter, on which I believe I ought to have spoken long ago." She looked up at him, surprise in her large eyes: and turned pale as he went on. "I ought long ago to have begged your pardon for something rude which I said to you at your own door. This day has made me quite ashamed of--" But she interrupted him, quite wildly, gasping for breath. "The belt? The belt? Oh, my God! my God! Have you heard anything more?--anything more?" "Not a word; but--" To his astonishment, she heaved a deep sigh, as if relieved from a sudden fear. His face clouded, and his eyebrows rose. Was she guilty, then, after all? With the quick eyes of love, she saw the change; and broke out passionately,-- "Yes; suspect me! suspect me, if you will! only give me time! Send me to prison, innocent as I am--innocent as that child there above--would God I were dying like her!--Only give me time! O misery! I had hoped you had forgotten--that it was lost in the sea--that--what am I saying?--Only give me time!"--and she dropped on her knees before him, wringing her hands. "Miss Harvey! This is not worthy of you. If you be innocent, as I don't doubt, what more do you need--or I?" He took her hands, and lifted her up: but she still kept looking down, round, upwards, like a hunted deer, and pleading in words which seemed sobbed out--as by some poor soul on the rack--between choking spasms of agony. "Oh, I don't know,--God help me! O Lord, help me! I will try and find it--I know I shall find it! only have patience; have patience with me a little, and I know I shall bring it you; and then--and then you will forgive?--forgive?" And she laid her hands upon his arms, and looked up in his face with a piteous smile of entreaty. She had never looked so beautiful as at that moment. The devil saw it; and entered into the heart of Thomas Thurnall. He caught her in his arms, kissed away her tears, stopped her mouth with kisses. "Yes! I'll wait--wait for ever, if you will! I'll lose another belt, for such another look as that!" She was bewildered for a moment, poor fond wretch, at finding herself where she would gladly have stayed for ever: but quickly she recovered her reason. "Let me go!" she cried, struggling. "This is not right! Let me go, sir!" and she tried to cover her burning cheeks with her hands.