angry with poor papa,
nor with me. Oh! Louis--the gratitude to you, the weight off my mind!'

'I don't think any one could help taking the same view,' said Louis.
'It seems to me one of the cases where the immediate duty is the more
clear because it is so very painful. Mary, I think that you are
committing your way unto the Lord, and you know 'He shall bring it to
pass.''

As he spoke there was a tap at the door, and Miss Ponsonby, stiffly
entering, said, 'Excuse my interruption, but I hope Lord Fitzjocelyn
will be considerate enough not to harass you any longer with
solicitations to act against your conscience.'

'He is not persuading me,' said Mary, turning towards her aunt a face
which, through all her dejection, proved her peace in his support and
approval, 'he is helping me.'

'Yes,' said Louis to the astonished aunt; 'since I have heard the true
state of the case, I have been convinced that there is no choice for
her but to go out, to repair the injustice so unfortunately done to
this poor lady. It is a noble resolution, and I perfectly concur with
her.'

'I am glad you think so properly, sir,' returned Miss Ponsonby. 'Lord
Ormersfield seems quite of another opinion. He was desirous of seeing
you, Mary; but I have been telling him I could permit no more
interviews to-day.'

'Oh no,' said Mary, putting her hand to her head, as if it could bear
no more; 'not to-day! Louis, tell him how it is. Make him forgive
me; but do not let me see him yet.'

'You shall see no one,' said Louis, tenderly; 'you shall rest. There--'
and, as if he had the sole right to her, he arranged the cushions,
placed her on the sofa, and hung over her to chafe her hands, and bathe
her forehead with eau de Cologne; while, as he detected signs of hasty
preparations about the room, he added, 'Don't trouble yourself with
your arrangements; I will see about all I can to help you. Only rest,
and cure your head.'

'Say that one thing to me again,' whispered Mary, ere letting his hand
go.

Again he murmured the words, 'Commit thy way unto the Lord, and He
shall bring it to pass.'

Then Mary felt her hand pressed to his lips, but she would not unclose
her burning eyes; she would fain sleep beneath the impress of that
spell of patient confidence.

The gentle authority of his manner had deprived Miss Ponsonby of all
notion of interfering. This 'odious, frivolous young man of fashion,'
so entirely disconcerted her ideas of ardent