"six months since. And now you and I
can understand Felicita. There was no prejudice against our Alice in her
mind; no unkindness to either of you. But she could not bring herself to
say the truth against the husband whom she has wept and mourned over so
long. And your mother is the soul of truth and honor; she could not let
you marry whilst we were ignorant of this matter. It has been a terrible
cross to bear, and she has borne it in silence. I love and revere your
mother more than ever."

"Yes!" said Felix with a sob. He had not yet seen her since coming to
this fateful knowledge; for Phebe and Hilda had joined her at the
sea-side where they were still staying. But if his father had gone down
into depths of darkness, his mother had risen so much the higher in his
reverence and love. She had become a saint and a martyr in his eyes; and
to save her from a moment's grief seemed to be a cause worth dying for.

"I came to tell you all," he went on, "and to say I cannot any more hope
that you will give Alice to me. God alone knows what it costs me to give
her up: and she will suffer too for a while, a long while, I fear; for
we have grown together so. But it must be. Alice cannot marry a man who
has not even an unblemished name to offer to her."

"You should ask Alice herself about that," said Canon Pascal quietly.

A thrill of rapture ran through Felix, and he grasped the shoulder, on
which his hand still rested, more firmly. What! was it possible that
this second father of his knew all his disgrace and dishonor, how his
teeth were set on edge by the sour grapes which he had not eaten, and
yet was willing that Alice should share his name and his lot? There was
no fear as to what Alice would say. He recollected how Phebe spoke, as
if her thoughts dwelt more on his father's sorrow and sad death, than on
his sin; and Alice would be the same. She would cover it with a woman's
sweet charity. He could not command his voice to speak; and after a
minute's pause Canon Pascal continued--

"Yes! Alice, too, knows all about it. I told her beside your father's
grave. And do you suppose she said, 'Here is cause enough for me to
break with Felix'? Nay, I believe if the sin had been your own, Alice
would have said it was her duty to share it, and your repentance. Shall
our Lord come to save sinners, and we turn away from their blameless
children? Yet I thought it must be so at first, I own it, Felix; at
first, while my eyes were blind