he World,--"If this woman pay your tax, she dies."

And the World mocked,--"You would not let your little finger ache
for such as this!"

"But I would die," said she,--"and more,--I will bear your mocking
and your hisses!"

"Oh! ay, ay, ay! you talk!" said the World.

But we have seen already. She had no herald to send forth and
"bid him cry, with sound of trumpet, all the hard condition." No
palfrey awaited her, "wrapt in purple, blazoned with armorial gold."
For her, indeed,

"The little wide-mouthed heads upon the spout,
Had cunning eyes to see..."

"...the blind walls
Were full of chinks and holes; and, overhead,
Fantastic gables stared."

She had her low churls, her Peeping Toms,--"compact of thankless
earth," who bored moral auger-holes in fear, and spied. Her nudeness
was more complete than hers of Coventry, by as much as ridicule is
more ruthless than coarse curiosity.

Not merely the delicacy of her "inmost bower," but all the
protection of her forlornness, she exposed naked to the town, to
take that tax away; and when it was removed, she could not hope to
build herself "an everlasting name." Ah, no! Godiva of Hendrik may
not live in any "city's ancient legend." This poor story must be all
her monument; let us lay the cap-stone, then.

* * * * *

All the angers of scorn in Hendrik were pointed at Miss Wimple; all
the sharp tongues of Hendrik hissed at her; and her good name fell
at once into the portion of the vilest weeds. Simon Blount saw and
heard, and his soul was sorely troubled. Like all _true_ love, loyal
and vigilant, his love for Sally was clear-sighted and sagacious.
Infatuation is either gross passion or pretence,--the flash and
bogus jewelry of the heart; but true love, though its eyes may ache
with the seeing, sees ever sharply. All beautiful examples teach
that the blindness of Love is not a parable, but an imposture; and
Simon saw that Sally was in a false position,--false to herself and
to him; for she denied him that confidence which he had a right to
share, sharing, as he did, all the scandal and the scorn; and in that,
she was unconsciously unjust. She denied herself the aid and comfort
of his tender counsel and his approbation, the protection of his
understanding and believing, when for him to understand and believe
was for her to be safe and bold. For even the pride of Sally Wimple,
overdone, could become arrogance; even her d