urself of no reputation." She cowered before
Conscience. "You are not even asked to make yourself unhappy," continued
Conscience; and so the inward monitor talked, on till, all wearied, her
will held out a flag of truce.

Most women would have thought of a compromise, would have, said, "Yes, I
will stoop to the man, but I will raise him to some more desirable
estate"; but such a woman was not Sophia Rexford. She scorned love that
would make conditions as much as she scorned a religion that could set
its own limits to service. For her there was but one question--Did
Heaven demand that she should acknowledge this love? If so, then the
all-ruling Will of Heaven must be the only will that should set bounds
to its demand.

In the distress of her mind, however, she did catch at one idea that
was, in kind, a compromise. She thought with relief that she could take
no initiative. If Alec Trenholme asked her to be his wife--then she
knew, at last she knew, that she would not dare to deny the voice at her
heart--in the light of righteousness and judgment to come, she would not
dare to deny it. But--ah, surely he would not ask! She caught at this
belief as an exhausted swimmer might catch at a floating spar, and
rested herself upon it. She would deal honourably with her conscience;
she would not abate her kindliness; she would give him all fair
opportunity; and if he asked, she would give up all--but she clung to
her spar of hope.

She did not realise the extent of her weakness, nor even suspect the
greatness of her strength.

CHAPTER XXI.

Robert Trenholme had not told his brother that he had made his
confession when he took tea with all the women. He knew that in such
cases difference and separation are often first fancied and then
created, by the self-conscious pride of the person who expects to be
slighted. He refrained from making this possible on Alec's part, and set
himself to watch the difference that would be made; and the interest of
all side-issues was summed up for him in solicitude to know what Miss
Rexford would do, for on that he felt his own hopes of her pardon to
depend.

When he found, the day after Bates's departure, that Alec must seek Miss
Rexford to give Eliza's message, he put aside work to go with him to
call upon her. He would hold to his brother; it remained to be seen how
she would receive them together.

That same afternoon Sophia went forth with Winifred and the little boys
to gather a