shame of his
birth; and if I go away they may forget--"

"And they may not. And if you go away, he may be unhappy or ill; and
you, who above all others have--and have from God--remember _that_,
Ruth!--the power to comfort him, the tender patience to nurse him,
have left him to the care of strangers. Yes; I know! But we ourselves
are as strangers, dearly as we love him, compared to a mother. He may
turn to sin, and want the long forbearance, the serene authority of
a parent; and where are you? No dread of shame, either for yourself,
or even for him, can ever make it right for you to shake off your
responsibility." All this time he was watching her narrowly, and saw
her slowly yield herself up to the force of what he was saying.

"Besides, Ruth," he continued, "we have gone on falsely hitherto. It
has been my doing, my mistake, my sin. I ought to have known better.
Now, let us stand firm on the truth. You have no new fault to repent
of. Be brave and faithful. It is to God you answer, not to men. The
shame of having your sin known to the world, should be as nothing to
the shame you felt at having sinned. We have dreaded men too much,
and God too little, in the course we have taken. But now be of good
cheer. Perhaps you will have to find your work in the world very
low--not quite working in the fields," said he, with a gentle smile,
to which she, downcast and miserable, could give no response. "Nay,
perhaps, Ruth," he went on, "you may have to stand and wait for some
time; no one may be willing to use the services you would gladly
render; all may turn aside from you, and may speak very harshly of
you. Can you accept all this treatment meekly, as but the reasonable
and just penance God has laid upon you--feeling no anger against
those who slight you, no impatience for the time to come (and come it
surely will--I speak as having the word of God for what I say) when
He, having purified you, even as by fire, will make a straight path
for your feet? My child, it is Christ the Lord who has told us of
this infinite mercy of God. Have you faith enough in it to be brave,
and bear on, and do rightly in patience and in tribulation?"

Ruth had been hushed and very still until now, when the pleading
earnestness of his question urged her to answer:

"Yes!" said she. "I hope--I believe I can be faithful for myself, for
I have sinned and done wrong. But Leonard--" She looked up at him.

"But Leonard," he echoed. "Ah! there it is hard,