been forgiven him.

But when Mary had been a fortnight at the farm a sudden change took
place in his demeanour. It was early evening and Learoyd was, as usual,
reading his Bible. The chapter before him was the twelfth of Romans, and
he read the verses quietly to himself until he came to the last but one:
"Therefore if thine enemy hunger, feed him; if he thirst, give him
drink: for in so doing thou shalt heap coals of fire on his head." As he
finished the verse he cast a troubled look at his stepdaughter, who was
quietly sewing on the other side of the fire. "Coals o' fire," he
muttered under his breath, and the old look of terror came back into his
eyes. Mary had never learnt to read, but she saw that the Bible, which
before had brought him peace of mind, was now driving a sword into his
heart. She tried to comfort him, but the farmer shrank from her, as he
had done when she first entered his house, and when she came into his
bedroom to say good-night, he screamed out in terror and would not let
her come near him. That night the vision of the girl with downcast eyes
and supplicating hands, standing in the Holmton market-place, came back
to him with all its old haunting power. From the adjoining bedroom Mary
heard him groaning and tossing on his pillow, and she felt herself
powerless to comfort him. Pity for this tortured soul filled her breast,
but it seemed as though all her resources of solace had failed her, and
that her mere presence in the house aggravated his suffering.

Next morning, with tears in her eyes, she told the doctor of the change
that had come over his patient. The doctor tried his pulse and looked
puzzled. He ordered Learoyd a soothing draught, but it had no effect.
All through the day his agony was frightful to witness. He sat with
glowering eyes gazing at the verse which had destroyed his peace of
mind. Mary tried to take the Bible from him but, with an oath, he
refused to give it up. The day was a busy one for her. Learoyd's
man-servant had gone with a flock of sheep and lambs to a distant moor,
and the duties of feeding the stock and milking the cows fell to her.
The farmer preserved a sullen silence while she was in the house, but no
sooner was she outside than his muttering began.

"Coals o' fire, aye, that's what shoo's heapin' on me, coals o' hell
fire; they're burnin' my heart to a cinder. It's vengeance shoo's after;
shoo favours her mother. All women are just t' same. She-devils, that's
w