ing to his lights; but he is persuaded that the terrible death was a judgment. And even in consoling the widow, in his heart and conscience he feels that he must vindicate the ways of God to man, and says as much. So Mrs M'Intyre, believing in her pastor's spiritual infallibility, is tormented by the notion of her husband's doom. If he was made a flagrant example of the sin of Sabbath-breaking – if he was doomed here, he may be condemned hereafter."
"How terrible!"
"Is it not? But that is just where you may do unspeakable good, since you can talk religion as well as common-sense, and speak to her of mercy instead of judgment. But it is not for me to tell you, Grace, how you may best comfort the widow. I should as soon think of giving a hint to one of the angels: if you cannot bring consolation to the cottage, then I throw up my hands. And even the minister is a candid man, and may listen to reason and the views of Glenconan's daughter. You go to work with him and with Mrs M'Intyre, and come to me and report progress. In the meantime, I wash my hands of the whole matter – unless, indeed, you should want money."
"That you assuredly shall not do, or I take no further step; and I cannot use a stronger threat, for I believe that we shall succeed in our errand if we only go hand in hand. But you must still be my guide, and, you may be sure, I shall be very docile. Only tell me what I am to do, and you shall have no cause to complain."
Leslie never in his life felt half so happy, and he would have very much liked to have told her so. A community of interests had been established on the highest and holiest grounds; and now he had proved and realised the virtues and the qualities with which he had always desired to credit his cousin. She was worth the loving, and she was worth the living and the working for, so from thenceforth he made up his mind to do both the one and the other; and when Leslie's mind was made up on a subject so all-important, it was by no means easy to move it. That happy moment seriously altered the odds against hopes and ambitions on the part of Mr Venables. And it is more than probable that Grace made a guess at what was passing in his mind; for her colour rose, to her confusion, as her cousin's eyes were riveted on her.
But the confusion passed away, and the community of interest remained. The cousins went like angel-visitors to the cottage, sometimes together, more often separately. They found that the widow could be won to confidences in a tête-à-tête, though she would shrink into herself when the two came together. But their sympathy began to teach her acquiescence, which might gradually grow to contented resignation. And although it was not often she spoke the thanks she looked, she could occasionally be eloquent in her gratitude to either when the other was away. She had warm feelings, or she could never have suffered so intensely; and she had been educated above her present station. But let her enlarge on the praises of the absent as she might, she could never tire the patience of either of the listeners. Grace would hear how her manly cousin – who had saved the life of another at the risk of his own, to the admiration of the daring hillmen – could be tender and impassioned as any woman. She heard involuntary comparisons
