e might say it in his sorrow,
too. The simple heart of this girl loved him, even as his own lustier
soul loved Greta. He had wronged her. But that was only a tithe of the
trouble. If she could but return him hate for wrong, how soon everything
would be right with her! "What brought you here, Mercy?"

"One of the sisters--they visit the sick--one of them visited the house
where they gave me lodgings, and I heard that they sometimes took
homeless girls into the convent. And I thought I was homeless, now,
and--and--"

"Poor little woman!"

"I came the night before last, but saw your brother Paul walking here in
front. So I went away."

"Paul?"

"Then I came last night, and he was here again. So I went away once
more, and to-night I came earlier, and he wasn't here, but just as I was
going to ring the bell, and say that I had no home, and that my eyes
were growing worse, something seemed to say they would ask if I had a
father, and why I had left him; and then I couldn't ring--and then I
thought if only I could die--yes, if only I could die and forget, and
never wake up again in the morning--"

"Hush, Mercy. You shall go back home to your father."

"No, no, no!"

"Yes; and I shall go with you."

There was silence. The bleared eyes looked stealthily up into his face.
A light smile played there.

"Ah!"

A bright vision came to her of a fair day when, hand in hand with him
she loved, she should return to her forsaken home in the mountains, and
hold up her head, and wipe away her father's tears. She was in the dark
street of the city, then; she and her home were very far apart.

He laughed inwardly at a different vision. In a grim spirit of humor he
saw all his unquenchable passion conquered, and he saw himself the
plain, homely, respectable husband of this simple wife.

"Was Paul alone when you saw him?" said Hugh.

"Yes. And would you tell them all?"

The girl's sidelong glance was far away.

"Mercy, I want you to do something for me."

"Yes, yes."

Again the sidelong glance.

Hugh lifted the girl's head with his hand to recall her wandering
thoughts.

"Paul will come again to-night. I want you to wait for him and speak to
him."

"Yes, yes; but won't he ask me questions?"

"What if he does? Answer them all. Only don't say that I have told you
to speak to him. Tell him--will you remember it?--are you
listening?--look me in the face, little woman."

"Yes, yes."

"Tell him that Mr. Christian--P