ll live down this horrible accusation and punishment--he
will not give way, but will keep his self-respect, and will do
infinitely better work for all the torture he has gone through. And our
hope must be this--that when the world sees him stronger than ever,
stronger in every way, and doing stronger work in his vocation, it will
come to believe in him, one by one, beginning with us, until his
vindication is brought about, not by legal proof, which is impossible,
but by the same feeling and conviction which to-day only draw two weak
women to the side of an unhappy and discredited man."

"Are you calling yourself a weak woman? You have the strength of a
martyr, and in days when they used to burn women you would have chosen
to be a martyr."

"I am not so sure. It is one thing to do what one likes, but quite
another thing to burn, which no one likes."

"Well, you are very brave, and you will succeed as you deserve. But not
at first."

"No, not at first. The hardest task will be with Alan, who has been in
despair all these months, and at death's door with fever. He will come
out weak, helpless, hopeless; there will be constant danger of a
relapse; and, even if he can be made to forget his despair, it will be
very difficult to restore him to cheerfulness." Her eyes filled with
pitying tears as she spoke.

"Only one thing can do that!" Clara stroked her friend's bright brown
hair, and kissed her on the cheek. "With you for his doctor he will soon
be well."

"Only two things can do it--a joy greater than his sorrow, and a
self-respect greater than his self-abasement."

Lettice stood up; and the far reaching look that Clara knew so well came
into the true and tender grey eyes, strong with all the rapt purpose of
a devoted woman. Her resolutions were forming and strengthening as she
went on. She had been guided by instinct and feeling, but they were
guiding her aright.

There was one thing more in which Clara was a help to her. She took her
to an old woman, the mother of her own parlor-maid, exceptionally clean
and respectable, whom Lettice engaged to go at once to Bute Lodge,
taking a younger daughter with her, and make everything ready for the
morrow.

"I shall come and see you soon," said Clara, as they wished each other
good-bye.

"Do! And if you can convert your husband----"

"If not, it will not be for want of trying."

It was evening before Lettice was at her lodging again. She had done all
that she could