without another word, and took her place beside Helen, a little shy of
being alone with her, yet glad of her company. Away went the ponies, and
as soon as she had got them settled to their work, Helen turned her face
toward Juliet.

"I _am_ so glad to see you!" she said.

Juliet's heart spoke too loud for her throat. It was a relief to her
that Helen had to keep her eyes on her charge, the quickness of whose
every motion rendered watchfulness right needful.

"Have you returned Mrs. Bevis's call yet!" asked Helen.

"No," murmured Juliet. "I haven't been able yet."

"Well, here is a good chance. Sit where you are, and you will be at
Nestley in half an hour, and I shall be the more welcome. You are a
great favorite there!"

"How kind you are!" said Juliet, the tears beginning to rise. "Indeed,
Mrs. Wingfold,----"

"You _used_ to call me Helen!" said that lady, pulling up her ponies
with sudden energy, as they shied at a bit of paper on the road, and
nearly had themselves and all they drew in the ditch.

"May I call you so still?"

"Surely! What else?"

"You are too good to me!" said Juliet, and wept outright.

"My dear Juliet," returned Helen, "I will be quite plain with you, and
that will put things straight in a moment. Your friends understand
perfectly why you have avoided them of late, and are quite sure it is
from no unkindness to any of them. But neither must you imagine we think
hardly of you for marrying Mr. Faber. We detest his opinions so much
that we feel sure if you saw a little further into them, neither of you
would hold them."

"But I don't--that is, I--"

"You don't know whether you hold them or not: I understand quite well.
My husband says in your case it does not matter much; for if you had
ever really believed in Jesus Christ, you could not have done it. At all
events now the thing is done, there is no question about it left. Dear
Juliet, think of us as your friends still, who will always be glad to
see you, and ready to help you where we can."

Juliet was weeping for genuine gladness now. But even as she wept, by
one of those strange movements of our being which those who have been
quickest to question them wonder at the most, it flashed upon her where
she had seen the lady that came from Mr. Drew's house, and her heart
sunk within her, for the place was associated with that portion of her
history which of all she would most gladly hide from herself. During the
rest of the drive she