children, and will not let them do things they would pray with their
whole hearts not to do. It was the angry thought of a moment, and He
forgives you.'

She sank into silence again till it was nearly midnight. The weary
enfeebled spirit seemed to be making its slow way with difficulty through
the windings of thought; and when she began to whisper again, it was in
reply to Maynard's words.

'But I had had such wicked feelings for a long while. I was so angry, and
I hated Miss Assher so, and I didn't care what came to anybody, because I
was so miserable myself. I was full of bad passions. No one else was ever
so wicked.'

'Yes, Tina, many are just as wicked. I often have very wicked feelings,
and am tempted to do wrong things; but then my body is stronger than
yours, and I can hide my feelings and resist them better. They do not
master me so. You have seen the little birds when they are very young and
just begin to fly, how all their feathers are ruffled when they are
frightened or angry; they have no power over themselves left, and might
fall into a pit from mere fright. You were like one of those little
birds. Your sorrow and suffering had taken such hold of you, you hardly
knew what you did.'

He would not speak long. Lest he should tire her, and oppress her with
too many thoughts. Long pauses seemed needful for her before she could
concentrate her feelings in short words.

'But when I meant to do it,' was the next thing she whispered, 'it was as
bad as if I had done it.'

'No, my Tina,' answered Maynard slowly, waiting a little between each
sentence; 'we mean to do wicked things that we never could do, just as we
mean to do good or clever things that we never could do. Our thoughts are
often worse than we are, just as they are often better than we are. And
God sees us as we are altogether, not in separate feelings or actions, as
our fellow-men see us. We are always doing each other injustice, and
thinking better or worse of each other than we deserve, because we only
hear and see separate words and actions. We don't see each other's whole
nature. But God sees that you could not have committed that crime.'

Caterina shook her head slowly, and was silent. After a while,--'I don't
know,' she said; 'I seemed to see him coming towards me, just as he would
really have looked, and I meant--I meant to do it.'

'But when you saw him--tell me how it was, Tina?'

'I saw him lying on the ground and thought he was ill