It was a contemptuous denial of her own flimsy self-justification. She
snatched away her hand, as she said it, with an angry frown. The blood
rushed back to her face.

"I ought to be ashamed of myself!" she exclaimed, energetically. In a
minute she was bustling about, putting away her things. In passing
the window, now that she was freed from the thraldom of her intense
thinking, she saw me lying where I might have been the witness to her
inclination to wrong.

She started guiltily, and then began bunglingly to draw from me whether
I had noticed anything of it. I took her hands, and looked her full in
the face.

"I love you and honor you from the very bottom of my soul, Kate!"

"Not now! You can't! You must despise me!" she answered, turning away
with a swelling bosom.

"I declare I never held you in so high estimation. Evil thoughts must
come, even to the holiest saint; but only those who admit and welcome
them are guilty,--not those who repel and conquer them. Surely not!"

"Thank you, Charlie. That is encouraging and comforting doctrine; and I
think it is true. But what a lesson I have had to-day!"

"Yes, it has been a striking one. I will write about it to Mary."

"Oh, no! for mercy's sake don't expose me further!"