than eternal punishment. If she believes and repents,
all her sins will be white as snow."

"Certainly, Mr. Fenwick."

"Then speak of her as you would of any other sister or brother,--not
as a thing that must be always vile because she has fallen once.
Women will so speak,--and other men. One sees something of a reason
for it. But you and I, as Christian ministers, should never allow
ourselves to speak so thoughtlessly of sinners. Good morning, Mr.
Puddleham."

CHAPTER XVIII.

BLANK PAPER.

Early in October Captain Marrable was called up to town by letters
from Messrs. Block and Curling, and according to promise wrote
various letters to Mary Lowther, telling her of the manner in which
his business progressed. All of these letters were shown to Aunt
Sarah,--and would have been shown to Parson John were it not that
Parson John declined to read them. But though the letters were purely
cousinly,--just such letters as a brother might write,--yet Miss
Marrable thought that they were dangerous. She did not say so; but
she thought that they were dangerous. Of late Mary had spoken no word
of Mr. Gilmore; and Aunt Sarah, through all this silence, was able
to discover that Mr. Gilmore's prospects were not becoming brighter.
Mary herself, having quite made up her mind that Mr. Gilmore's
prospects, so far as she was concerned, were all over, could not
decide how and when she should communicate the resolve to her lover.
According to her present agreement with him, she was to write to him
at once should she accept any other offer; and was to wait for six
months if this should not be the case. Certainly, there was no rival
in the field, and therefore she did not quite know whether she ought
or ought not to write at once in her present circumstances of assured
determination. She soon told herself that in this respect also she
would go to her new-found brother for advice. She would ask him, and
do just as he might bid her. Had he not already proved how fit a
person he was to give advice on such a subject?

After an absence of ten days he came home, and nothing could exceed
Mary's anxiety as to the tidings which he should bring with him. She
endeavoured not to be selfish about the matter; but she could not but
acknowledge that, even as regarded herself, the difference between
his going to India or staying at home was so great as to affect
the whole colour of her life. There was, perhaps, something of the
feeling of being