ntly and overwhelmingly, shattering her reserve, sweeping away
the stony ramparts of her pride.

She turned and hid her face upon Mrs. Lorimer's breast in an anguish of
tears.

It lasted for several minutes, that paroxysm of weeping. It was the pent
misery of hours finding vent at last. All she had suffered, all the
humiliation, the bitterness of desecrated love, the utter despair of her
soul, was in those tears. They shook her being to the depths. They seemed
to tear her heart asunder.

At last in broken whispers she began to speak. Still with those scalding
tears falling between her words, she imparted the whole miserable story;
she bared her fallen pride. There was no other person in the world to
whom she could thus have revealed that inner agony, that lacerating
shame. But Mrs. Lorimer, the despised, the downtrodden, was as an angel
from heaven that day. A new strength was hers, born of her friend's utter
need. She held her up, she sustained, her, through that the darkest hour
of her life, with a courage and a steadfastness of which no one had ever
deemed her capable.

When Avery whispered at length, "I can never, never go back to him!" her
answer was prompt.

"My dear, you must. It will be hard, God knows. But He will give you
strength. Oh Avery, don't act for yourself, dear! Let Him show the way!"

"If He will!" sobbed Avery, with her burning face hidden against her
friend's heart.

"He will, dearest, He will," Mrs. Lorimer asserted with conviction. "He
is much nearer to us in trouble than most of us ever realize. Only let
Him take the helm; He will steer you through the storm."

"I feel too wicked," whispered Avery, "too--overwhelmed with evil."

"My dear, feelings are nothing," said the Vicar's wife, with a decision
that would have shocked the Reverend Stephen unspeakably. "We can't help
our feelings, but we can put ourselves in the way of receiving help. Oh,
don't you think He often lets us miss our footing just because He wants
us to lean on Him?"

"I don't know," Avery said hopelessly. "But I think it will kill me to
go back. Even if--if I pretended to forgive him--I couldn't possibly
endure to--to go on as if nothing had happened. Eric--my first
husband--will always stand between us now."

"Dear, are you sure that what you heard was not an exaggeration?" Mrs.
Lorimer asked gently.

"Oh yes, I am sure." There was utter hopelessness in Avery's reply. "I
have always known that there was something