No matter how much they wondered at her silence, and urged her to speak, the beautiful young heiress refused to tell the story of that awful night. She said simply that she had been robbed of the beautiful ring Mr. Willoughby gave her, but she would leave the vengeance to Heaven. CHAPTER XXXV. AS IN A DREAM. Lelia had never thought much about heaven and eternal justice in her gay, proud, selfish life. But Gipsy’s words startled her not a little, and made her wonder and think. She believed, and for the first time, that her secret was not confined to herself and the girl she had wronged. God and the angels knew all about it, she thought. And the recording angel had written her terrible sin down against her name in his big book. It gave Lelia a queer feeling to think that in the day of judgment every one would hear her secret sin read out to the whole world that was so ignorant of it now. She wished that the heiress had not consigned her to the vengeance of Heaven. It made her nervous, it frightened her not a little. And she said to her mother when they were alone that night: “Mama, do you know much about religion?” “I belong to the church, but somehow I don’t attend much,” Mrs. Ritchie said carelessly. “But you believe in it all, don’t you, mama dear?” “Why, of course, my dear daughter! To hear you talk one would think I had raised you like a heathen!” “Well, you haven’t taken me to church often, and you have never instructed me on religion, so I have to figure out things for myself.” “You haven’t been going to a revival lately, have you, my dear? Or are you thinking that now you are married it would be good form to join the church and identify yourself with some charities?” “Neither, mama. I was thinking of the doctrine of punishment for sins. I want to know whether you believe one is punished here on earth for sins committed in the flesh, or is judgment reserved for the hereafter?” “Oh, the hereafter, of course, Lelia. We must come to the judgment first before we receive punishment for our sins,” glibly replied the lady, giving her guilty daughter more comfort than she knew. Lelia sighed with relief, thinking: “Oh, well, if I am not to be punished until after death, it does not greatly matter! I am young, and that is a long way off, and I can repent and get forgiveness before I die.” Her volatile nature had forgotten already the solemn words to which she had listened at Miss Willoughby’s funeral. She tried to put it all lightly from her, but it was too fresh in her mind to get rid of yet. By day she might turn to other things, but by night, in restless, horror-haunted dreams, Lelia reviewed her sins.