e to have for a husband. And this blank in Hetty's nature,
instead of exciting Dinah's dislike, only touched her with a deeper
pity: the lovely face and form affected her as beauty always affects a
pure and tender mind, free from selfish jealousies. It was an excellent
divine gift, that gave a deeper pathos to the need, the sin, the sorrow
with which it was mingled, as the canker in a lily-white bud is more
grievous to behold than in a common pot-herb.

By the time Dinah had undressed and put on her night-gown, this feeling
about Hetty had gathered a painful intensity; her imagination had
created a thorny thicket of sin and sorrow, in which she saw the poor
thing struggling torn and bleeding, looking with tears for rescue and
finding none. It was in this way that Dinah's imagination and sympathy
acted and reacted habitually, each heightening the other. She felt a
deep longing to go now and pour into Hetty's ear all the words of tender
warning and appeal that rushed into her mind. But perhaps Hetty was
already asleep. Dinah put her ear to the partition and heard still some
slight noises, which convinced her that Hetty was not yet in bed. Still
she hesitated; she was not quite certain of a divine direction; the
voice that told her to go to Hetty seemed no stronger that the other
voice which said that Hetty was weary, and that going to her now in an
unseasonable moment would only tend to close her heart more obstinately.
Dinah was not satisfied without a more unmistakable guidance than those
inward voices. There was light enough for her, if she opened her Bible,
to discern the text sufficiently to know what it would say to her. She
knew the physiognomy of every page, and could tell on what book she
opened, sometimes on what chapter, without seeing title or number. It
was a small thick Bible, worn quite round at the edges. Dinah laid it
sideways on the window ledge, where the light was strongest, and then
opened it with her forefinger. The first words she looked at were those
at the top of the left-hand page: "And they all wept sore, and fell on
Paul's neck and kissed him." That was enough for Dinah; she had opened
on that memorable parting at Ephesus, when Paul had felt bound to open
his heart in a last exhortation and warning. She hesitated no longer,
but, opening her own door gently, went and tapped on Hetty's. We know
she had to tap twice, because Hetty had to put out her candles and throw
off her black lace scarf; but a