Lady Mason had now been for three weeks in London, and once during that time Mrs. Orme had gone up to visit her. She had then remained with her friend for hours, greatly to Lady Mason's comfort, and now this letter had come, bringing a last adieu.
'You may read it, sir, if you like,' said Mrs. Orme, handing him the letter. It was evident, by his face, that he was gratified by the privilege; and he read it, not once only, but over and over again. As he did so, he placed himself in the shade, and sat with his back to Mrs. Orme; but nevertheless she could see that from time to time he rubbed his eyes with the back of his hand, and gradually raised his handkerchief to his face.
'Thank you, dearest,' he said, as he gave the letter back to her.
'I think that we may forgive her now, even all that she has done,' said Mrs. Orme.
'Yes—yes—yes,' he answered. 'For myself, I forgave her from the first.'
'I know you did. But as regards the property,—it has been given up now.' And then again they were silent.
'Edith,' he said, after a while, 'I have forgiven her altogether. To me she is the same as though she had never done that deed. Are we not all sinners?'
'Surely, father.'
'And can I say because she did one startling thing that the total of her sin is greater than mine? Was I ever tempted as she was tempted? Was my youth made dangerous for me as was hers? And then she did nothing for herself; she did it all for another. We may think of that now.'
'I have thought of it always.'
'It did not make the sin the less; but among her fellow-mortals———' And then he stopped himself, wanting words to express his meaning. The sin, till it was repented, was damning; but now that it was repented, he could almost love the sinner for the sin.
'Edith,' he said, again. And he looked at her so wishfully! She knew well what was the working of his heart, and she knew also that she did not dare to encourage him.
'I trust,' said Mrs. Orme, 'that she will bear her present lot for a few years; and then, perhaps———'
'Ah! then I shall be in my grave. A few months will do that.'
'Oh, sir!'
'Why should I not save her from such a life as that?'
'From that which she had most to fear she has been saved.'
'Had she not so chosen it herself, she could now have demanded from me a home. Why should I not give it to her now?'
'A home here, sir?'
'Yes; why not? But I know what you would say. It would be wrong,—to you and Parry.'
