her face, called there by her aunt's
quaint speaking, bent her head, and burst into tears.

"I came to reassure and to thank you, Faith--not to let you distress
yourself so," said Mr. Rushleigh. "Margaret sent all kind messages; but
I would not bring her. I thought it would be too much for you, so soon.
Another day, she will come. We shall always claim old friendship, my
child, and remember our new debt; though the old days themselves cannot
quite be brought back again as they were. There may be better days,
though, even, by and by."

"Let Margaret know, before she comes, please," whispered Faith. "I don't
think I could tell her."

"You shall not have a moment of trial that I can spare you. But--Paul
will be content with nothing, as a final word, that does not come from
you."

"I will see him when he comes. I wish it. Oh, sir! I am so sorry."

"And so am I, Faith. We must all be sorry. But we are _only_ sorry. And
that is all that need be said."

The conversation, after this, could not be prolonged. Mr. Rushleigh took
his leave, kindly, as he had made his greeting.

"Oh, Aunt Faith! What a terrible thing I have done!"

"What a terrible thing you came near doing, you mean, child! Be thankful
to the Lord--He's delivered you from it! And look well to the rest of
your life, after all this. Out of fire and misery you must have been
saved for something!"

Then Aunt Faith called Glory, and told her to bring an egg, beat up in
milk--"to a good froth, mind; and sugared and nut-megged, and a
teaspoonful of brandy in it."

This she made Faith swallow, and then bade her put her feet up on the
sofa, and lean back, and shut her eyes, and not speak another word till
she'd had a nap.

All which, strangely enough, Faith--wearied, troubled, yet
relieved--obeyed.

For the next two days, what with waiting on the invalids--for Faith was
far from well--and with answering the incessant calls at the door of
curious people flocking to inquire, Glory McWhirk was kept busy and
tired. But not with a thankless duty, as in the days gone by, that she
remembered; it was heart work now, and brought heart love as its reward.
It was one of her "real good times."

Mr. Armstrong talked and read with them, and gave hand help and ministry
also, just when it could be given most effectually.

It was a beautiful lull of peace between the conflict that was past, and
the final pang that was to come. Faith accepted it with a thankfulness.
Such j