d him; the Doctor's wife and I. But now the
pride and joy had both faded.

"Mrs. Jessop, you see I am right," he murmured. "I ought not to have
come here. It is a hard world for such as I. I shall never conquer
it--never."

"Yes--you will." And Ursula stood by him, with crimsoned cheek, and
eyes no longer flashing, but fearless still.

Mrs. Jessop put her arm round the young girl. "I also think you need
not dread the world, Mr. Halifax, if you always act as you did tonight;
though I grieve that things should have happened thus, if only for the
sake of this, my child."

"Have I done any harm? oh! tell me, have I done any harm?"

"No!" cried Ursula, with the old impetuosity kindling anew in every
feature of her noble face. "You have but showed me what I shall
remember all my life--that a Christian only can be a true gentleman."

She understood him--he felt she did; understood him as, if a man be
understood by one woman in the world, he--and she too--is strong, safe,
and happy. They grasped hands once more, and gazed unhesitatingly into
each other's eyes. All human passion for the time being set aside,
these two recognized each in the other one aim, one purpose, one faith;
something higher than love, something better than happiness. It must
have been a blessed moment for both.

Mrs. Jessop did not interfere. She had herself known what true love
was, if, as gossips said, she had kept constant to our worthy doctor
for thirty years. But still she was a prudent woman, not unused to the
world.

"You must go now," she said, laying her hand gently on John's arm.

"I am going. But she--what will she do?"

"Never mind me. Jane will take care of me," said Ursula, winding her
arms round her old governess, and leaning her cheek down on Mrs.
Jessop's shoulder.

We had never seen Miss March show fondness, that is, caressing
fondness, to any one before. It revealed her in a new light; betraying
the depths there were in her nature; infinite depths of softness and of
love.

John watched her for a minute; a long, wild, greedy minute, then
whispered hoarsely to me, "I must go."

We made a hasty adieu, and went out together into the night--the cold,
bleak night, all blast and storm.

CHAPTER XVIII

For weeks after then, we went on in our usual way; Ursula March living
within a stone's throw of us. She had left her cousin's, and come to
reside with Dr. Jessop and his wife.

It was a very hard trial fo