ventured to look up
into the eyes--and saw their hollow setting, their loss of sparkle, but
their added steadfastness and resolution. She could not help repeating
the long-treasured lines: 'And, Leonard,

"--grieve not for thy woes,
Disgrace and trouble;
For He who honour best bestows,
Shall give thee double."'

'I've never ceased to be glad you read Marmion with me,' he hastily
said, as they turned into church on hearing a clattering of choristers
behind them.

Clara might have had such sensations when she bound the spurs on her
knight's heels, yet even she could hardly have had so pure, unselfish,
and exquisite a joy as Ethel's, in receiving the pupil who had been in
a far different school from hers.

The gray dawn through the gloom, the depths of shadow in the twilight
church, softening and rendering all more solemn and mysterious, were
more in accordance than bright and beamy sunshine with her subdued
grave thankfulness; and there was something suitable in the fewness of
the congregation that had gathered in the Lady Chapel--so few, that
there was no room for shyness, either in, or for, him who was again
taking his place there, with steady composed demeanour, its stillness
concealing so much.

Ethel had reckoned on the verse--'That He might hear the mournings of
such as are in captivity, and deliver the children appointed unto
death.' But she had not reckoned on its falling on her ears in the
deep full-toned melodious bass, that came in, giving body to the young
notes of the choristers--a voice so altered and mellowed since she last
had heard it, that it made her look across in doubt, and recognize in
the uplifted face, that here indeed the freed captive was at home, and
lifted above himself.

When the clause, in the Litany, for all prisoners and captives brought
to her the thrill that she had only to look up to see the fulfilment of
many and many a prayer for one captive, for once she did not hear the
response, only saw the bent head, as though there were thoughts went
too deep to find voice. And again, there was the special thanksgiving
that Mr. Wilmot could not refrain from introducing for one to whom a
great mercy had been vouchsafed. If Ethel had had to swim home, she
would not but have been there!

Charles Cheviot addressed them as they came out of church: 'Good
morning--Mr. Ward, I hope to do myself the h