standard of
right."

"But aunt Caxton, I have done Mr. Carlisle grievous wrong. O, I feel
that!--"

"Yes. What then?"

"Am I not bound to make him all the amends in my power?"

"Short of doing further wrong. Keep right and wrong always clear,
Eleanor. They never mean the same thing."

"Aunty, what you must think of me!"

"I think of you just now as saved from shipwreck. Many a girl has
drifted on in the course you were going, without courage to get out of
the current, until she has destroyed herself; and perhaps somebody
else."

"I do not think I had much courage, aunt Caxton," said Eleanor blushing.

"What had you, then?"

"It was mainly my horror of marrying that man, after I found I did not
love him. And yet, aunt Caxton, I do like him; and I am very, very,
very sorry! It has almost seemed to me sometimes that I ought to marry
him and give him what I can; and yet, if I were ready, I would rather
die."

"Is your doubt settled?"

"Yes, ma'am,"--said Eleanor sadly.

"My dear, you have done wrong,--I judge, somewhat ignorantly,--but
mischief can never be mended by mischief. To marry one man, preferring
another, is the height of disloyalty to both him and yourself; unless
you can lay the whole truth before him; and then, as I think, in most
cases it would be the height of folly."

"I will write to Mr. Carlisle to-morrow."

"And then, Eleanor, what was the other question you came here to
settle?"

"It is quite a different question, aunty, and yet it was all twisted up
with the other."

"You can tell it me; it will hardly involve greater confidence," said
Mrs. Caxton, bending over and kissing Eleanor's brow which rested upon
her knee. "Eleanor, I am very thankful you came to Plassy."

The girl rose up and kneeling beside her hid her face in Mrs. Caxton's
bosom. "Aunt Caxton, I am so glad! I have wanted just this help so
long! and this refuge. Put your arms both round me, and hold me tight."

Mrs. Caxton said nothing for a little while. She waited for Eleanor to
take her own time and speak. Very still the two were. There were some
straining sobs that came from the one and went to the heart of the
other; heavy and hard; but with no sound till they were quieted.

"Aunt Caxton," said Eleanor at last, "the other question was that one
of a refuge."

"A heavenly one?"

"Yes. I had heard of a 'helmet of salvation'--I wanted it;--but I do
not know how to get it."

"Do you know what it is?"

"Not ver