never, never come to see us any
more?"

"'Tis not wicked to hate a man's sinful deeds, dear heart; but we have
need to beware that we hate not the sinner himself."

"I can't tell how to manage that," said Christie. "I can't put Uncle
Edward into one end of my mind, and the ill way he hath used dear Aunt
Alice into the other. He's a bad, wicked man, or he never could have
done as he has."

"Suppose he be the very worst man that ever lived, Christie--and I
misdoubt if he be so--but supposing it, wouldst thou not yet wish that
God should forgive him?"

"Well; ay, I suppose I would," said Christie, in a rather uncertain
tone; "but if Uncle Edward's going to Heaven, I do hope the angels will
keep him a good way off Aunt Alice, and Father, and me. I don't think
it would be so pleasant if he were there."

Pandora smiled.

"We will leave that, sweet heart, till thou be there," she said.

And just as she spoke Mrs Collenwood returned to the parlour. She
chatted pleasantly for a little while with Christie, and bade her not
lose heart concerning her Aunt Alice.

"The Lord will do His best for His own, my child," she said, as they
took leave of Christabel; "but after all, mind thou, His best is not
always our best. Nay; at times it is that which seems to us the worst.
Yet I cast no doubt we shall bless Him for it, and justify all His ways,
when we stand on the mount of God, and look back along the road that we
have traversed. `All the paths of the Lord are mercy and truth unto
such as keep His covenant and his testimonies.'"

Some such comfort as those words of God can give was sorely needed by
Roger Hall. To use a graphic expression of his day, he was "well-nigh
beat out of heart." He had visited all the villages within some
distance, and had tramped to and fro in Canterbury, and could hear
nothing. He had not as yet hinted to any one his own terrible
apprehension that Alice might have been removed to London for trial. If
so, she would come into the brutal and relentless hands of Bishop
Bonner, and little enough hope was there in that case. The only chance,
humanly speaking, then lay in the occasional visits paid by Cardinal
Pole to Smithfield, for the purpose of rescuing, from Bonner's noble
army of martyrs, the doomed who belonged to his own diocese. And that
was a poor hope indeed.

There were two important holy-days left in February, and both these
Roger spent in Canterbury, despite the warning of his