swear it!"

My aunt caught me by the hand, and whispered, "Stand between us for a
minute or two. Don't let Rachel see me." I noticed a bluish tinge in her
face which alarmed me. She saw I was startled. "The drops will put me
right in a minute or two," she said, and so closed her eyes, and waited
a little.

While this was going on, I heard dear Mr. Godfrey still gently
remonstrating.

"You must not appear publicly in such a thing as this," he said. "YOUR
reputation, dearest Rachel, is something too pure and too sacred to be
trifled with."

"MY reputation!" She burst out laughing. "Why, I am accused, Godfrey, as
well as you. The best detective officer in England declares that I have
stolen my own Diamond. Ask him what he thinks--and he will tell you that
I have pledged the Moonstone to pay my private debts!" She stopped, ran
across the room--and fell on her knees at her mother's feet. "Oh mamma!
mamma! mamma! I must be mad--mustn't I?--not to own the truth NOW?" She
was too vehement to notice her mother's condition--she was on her feet
again, and back with Mr. Godfrey, in an instant. "I won't let you--I
won't let any innocent man--be accused and disgraced through my fault.
If you won't take me before the magistrate, draw out a declaration of
your innocence on paper, and I will sign it. Do as I tell you, Godfrey,
or I'll write it to the newspapers I'll go out, and cry it in the
streets!"

We will not say this was the language of remorse--we will say it was the
language of hysterics. Indulgent Mr. Godfrey pacified her by taking
a sheet of paper, and drawing out the declaration. She signed it in a
feverish hurry. "Show it everywhere--don't think of ME," she said, as
she gave it to him. "I am afraid, Godfrey, I have not done you justice,
hitherto, in my thoughts. You are more unselfish--you are a better man
than I believed you to be. Come here when you can, and I will try and
repair the wrong I have done you."

She gave him her hand. Alas, for our fallen nature! Alas, for Mr.
Godfrey! He not only forgot himself so far as to kiss her hand--he
adopted a gentleness of tone in answering her which, in such a case,
was little better than a compromise with sin. "I will come, dearest," he
said, "on condition that we don't speak of this hateful subject again."
Never had I seen and heard our Christian Hero to less advantage than on
this occasion.

Before another word could be said by anybody, a thundering knock at the
street