Poor Mrs. King was “much tumbled up and down in her own mind;” she longed to consent, but Cotton’s eye was upon her, and Cotton’s departure would be an irreparable loss, so she decided to end the matter in the most summary manner. Plunging a particularly large pin into her cushioned breast, as if it was a relief to inflict that mock torture upon herself, she said sharply: “It is impossible. You can do as you please, Miss Devon, but I prefer to wash my hands of the affair at once and entirely.” Christie’s eye went from the figure at her feet to the hard-featured woman who had been a kind and just mistress until now, and she asked, anxiously: “Do you mean that you wash your hands of me also, if I stand by Rachel?” “I do. I’m very sorry, but my young ladies must keep respectable company, or leave my service,” was the brief reply, for Mrs. King grew grimmer externally as the mental rebellion increased internally. “Then I will leave it!” cried Christie, with an indignant voice and eye. “Come, dear, we’ll go together.” And without a look or word for any in the room, she raised the prostrate girl, and led her out into the little hall. There she essayed to comfort her, but before many words had passed her lips Rachel looked up, and she was silent with surprise, for the face she saw was neither despairing nor defiant, but beautifully sweet and clear, as the unfallen spirit of the woman shone through the grateful eyes, and blessed her for her loyalty. “Christie, you have done enough for me,” she said. “Go back, and keep the good place you need, for such are hard to find. I can get on alone; I’m used to this, and the pain will soon be over.” “I’ll not go back!” cried Christie, hotly. “I’ll do slop-work and starve, before I’ll stay with such a narrow-minded, cold-hearted woman. Come home with me at once, and let us lay our plans together.” “No, dear; if I wouldn’t go when you first asked me, much less will I go now, for I’ve done you harm enough already. I never can thank you for your great goodness to me, never tell you what it has been to me. We must part now; but some day I’ll come back and show you that I’ve not forgotten how you loved and helped and trusted me, when all the others cast me off.” Vain were Christie’s arguments and appeals. Rachel was immovable, and all her friend could win from her was a promise to send word, now and then, how things prospered with her. “And, Rachel, I charge you to come to me in any strait, no matter what it is, no matter where I am; for if any thing could break my heart, it would be to know that you had gone back to the old life, because there was no one to help and hold you up.” “I never can go back; you have saved me, Christie, for you love me, you have faith in me, and that will keep me strong and safe when you are gone. Oh, my dear, my dear, God bless you for ever and for ever!”