ffence
where none was meant, by a care for others which had been resented.

She knew in a flash that the cause of her unending tears, of her
heart-sickness ever since, had been the fear of Charlie's anger,
the fear that, be the reason great or small, she should forfeit his
affection and cease to be all the world to him.

She did not stop to think how much she was wronging Charlie's faithful
love. She was oblivious for the moment of everything but this fear.
She had been fighting fiercely since last night against the bare
thought of the possibility of losing Charlie's love; she had been
holding on to that love as for her life, and now another love, a love
higher, wider, deeper the love that passeth knowledge, had risen up
before her and claimed--her all.

Were the whole realm of nature mine,
That were an offering far too small.

The thoughts passed through her mind with the swiftness of a dream,
as, instinctively following the movements of those about her,
she stood there with her eyes fixed upon Charlie, while the slow
procession of the choir filed out and the organ sounded plaintively
among the high arches.

She seemed only to see Charlie--her all--the whole realm of nature
which at that moment she _did_ possess--how the thought thrilled
her--she saw him on one side and her crucified Saviour waiting on the
other.

Waiting--for what?

Her soul--her life? She had given them. Ah! for something more--her
all! The congregation around her were passing out. She sank slowly on
to her knees and hid her face. The Love which had given its all for
her had conquered.

With her all, she knelt at His feet, and kneeling there she broke her
box of ointment of spikenard, very precious, and poured it out.

The church was almost empty when she rose and passed out. Charlie was
waiting for her in the porch, and Audrey, Gertrude and Cecil were
on the steps. Audrey slipped her arm into Denys's. "Wasn't it nice?
Didn't you like it?" she whispered.

"Very much, oh, very much!" Denys answered. "I did not know you were
all there."

She gave her arm a little answering pressure. This was the Audrey she
had known at Saltmarsh!

"That was Cecil," said Audrey gravely. "He said that when there were
so many who _didn't_ care, we, who do care, ought to show that we
cared! So, of course, we went."

When the afternoon came, it was a pleasant and united little party
which set out for the walk to the Landslip. As Gertrude observe