ldly.

"No, thank you," said Jael, firmly. "I shall not stay long after the way
I have been received."

"And how do you expect to be received?"

"As I used to be. As a poor girl who once saved HIS life, and nearly
lost her own, through being his true and faithful servant."

"Faithful to him, but not to me."

Jael's face showed she did not understand this.

"Yes," said Grace, bitterly, "you are the real cause of my marrying Mr.
Coventry, whom I don't love, and never can love. There, read that. I
can't speak to you. You look all candor and truth, but I know what you
are: all the women in that factory knew about you and him--read that."
She handed her the anonymous letter, and watched her like an eagle.

Jael read the poison, and colored a little, but was not confounded.

"Do you believe this, Miss Carden?"

"I did not believe it at first, but too many people have confirmed it.
Your own conduct has confirmed it, my poor girl. This is cruel of me."

"Never mind," said Jael, resolutely. "We have gone too far to stop. My
conduct! What conduct, if you please?"

"They all say that, when you found he was no more, you attempted
self-destruction."

"Ah," cried Jael, like a wounded hare; "they must tell you that!" and
she buried her face in her hands.

Now this was a young woman endowed by nature with great composure, and
a certain sobriety and weight; so, when she gave way like that, it
produced a great effect on those who knew her.

Grace sighed, and was distressed. But there was no help for it now.
She awaited Jael's reply, and Jael could not speak for some time. She
conquered her agitation, however, at last, and said, in a low voice,
"Suppose you had a sister, whom you loved dearly--and then you had a
quarrel with her, and neither of you much to blame, the fault lay with
a third person; and suppose you came home suddenly and found that
sister had left England in trouble, and gone to the other end of the
world--would not that cut you to the heart?"

"Indeed it would. How correctly you speak. Now who has been teaching
you?"

"Mrs. Little."

"Ah!"

"You HAVE a father. Suppose you left him for a month, and then came back
and found him dead and buried--think of that--buried!"

"Poor girl!"

"And all this to fall on a poor creature just off a sick-bed, and
scarcely right in her head. When I found poor Mr. Henry was dead, and
you at death's door, I crawled home for comfort, and there I found
desolation: my s