"

"No, dear, he was not angry, for I was watching him; but you did what I
have not seen any one do to him for a good many years. You touched his
heart; 'and a little child shall lead them,'" she murmured so softly, I
scarce could catch the words.

"I am not a little child, Mrs. Flaxman," I remonstrated.

"Your are in some ways, darling. Your mother's prayers for her children
have been answered. Those God has already taken are safe; and you are one
of His little ones whose angel one day shall behold His face in joy."

"I am glad my mother prayed for us; God is so sure to answer a mother's
prayers. I suppose it is because they are really in earnest. But did she
ask anything special?"

"That you might be kept pure from the world's pollution, and get what was
really for your good. Her letters to Mrs. Winthrop were full of this:
They are all preserved among Mr. Winthrop's papers, and some day he will
give them to you."

"She was a Christian, I think, like Mr. Bowen,--one who really had a hold
on God."

"I never knew one so unspotted from the world. I too shall call her
mother if I meet her in the Heavenly places; for it was she brought me to
Jesus."

"Mrs. Flaxman, is it easy to come to Him,--to be His disciple?"

"So easy, the way-faring man, though a fool, need not find it too
difficult."

"I believe Christ has said to me as He did to the Magdalene: 'Daughter,
thy sins, which are many are all forgiven thee.' Is it not grand to be
His child? There is nothing in the world I want so much as to do His
will."

"You stepped out of your way, Medoline, to help others, and they have
done more in return than you gave," she said, the tears filling her eyes.

"I might not have found Christ for years, but for Mr. Bowen--perhaps
never," I added with a shudder.

The dinner bell ended our little fellowship meeting by the firelight. Mr.
Winthrop came and we took our places at the table, the dinner going on
in the same precise fashion as if there were no such thing as glad, or
breaking hearts. There was very little conversation; and dinner ended,
Mrs. Flaxman and I were left alone directly. I longed to ask what it was
Mr. Winthrop decided I must not know; and the mere fact of his so wishing
deterred me from asking. But I felt convinced it was in some way
connected with Hermione Le Grande. Neither could I confess to Mrs.
Flaxman that I had only an hour or two before heard from her own lips the
terrible wrong she had done hi