had gathered already into little pools on the floor. In
the darkest corner of the room a crouched-up form sat sobbing
hopelessly, and by the figure on the table Aunt Janet stood, her face in
shadow, since she was above the shade of the lamp, but her hands
singularly white and gentle-looking as they moved about drying the dead
girl's face, pushing the wet, clogged hair from eyes and mouth.

Joan paused just within the door, the terror of that figure on the table
holding her spellbound, but Miss Abercrombie moved brusquely forward so
that she stood in the lamplight confronting Aunt Janet.

"So," she said, quick and sharp, yet not over loud, the people outside
could not have heard, "Bridget has found this way out. A kinder way than
your stern judgment, Janet. Poor little girl."

"I did not judge," Miss Rutherford answered stiffly, "'the wages of sin
is death.'"

"Yet you can be kind to her now," snorted Miss Abercrombie; "it would
not have been wasted had you been a little kinder before. Forgive me,
Janet, I speak quickly, without thinking. You live up to your precepts;
everyone has to do that."

The old woman in the corner lifted her face to look at them; perhaps she
thought that in some way or other they were reviling the dead, for she
staggered to her feet and crossed over to the table.

"It was fear made her do it," she wailed; "fear, and because we spoke
her harsh. I hated the shame of it all. Yet, God knows, I would have
stood by her in the end. My little girl, my little Bridget!" Sobs choked
her, she fell to her knees, pressing her lips to one of the cold, stiff
hands.

Joan saw Aunt Janet stoop and lay a gentle hand on the heaving
shoulders, she heard, too, a movement of the crowd outside and saw the
Vicar's good-natured, perturbed face appear in the doorway. Behind him
again was a younger man, stern-faced, with quiet, very steady blue eyes
and a firm-lined mouth. All this she noticed, why she could not have
explained, for the man was a perfect stranger to her; then the fear and
giddiness which all this time she had been fighting against gained the
upper hand and, swaying a little, she moved forward with the intention
of getting outside, only to fall in a dead faint across the doorway of
the cottage.

CHAPTER V

"Love wakes men, once a lifetime each
They lift their heavy heads and look.

* * * * *

And some give thanks, and some blaspheme,
And most f