"That is it," broke in Mr. Jerrold. "Pride is at the bottom of the
whole argument. May! this moment you are as proud as the devil!"

"Oh, sir! pray do not think that. I really feel extremely grateful for
your kind intentions," said May, looking distressed. "I have other
reasons, which I cannot very well explain, for choosing the way of life
that I have. Only please to understand this, that I should be very
miserable, if I were placed, _now_, in a situation which would leave me
without responsibility."

"You are a paradox. You ought to be ten feet high, May, with such a
will as yours. You won't live with us, because we are so wicked that
you'd have to preach to us about our sins; and you won't live here,
because you're afraid you'll get as bad as we are. Well, well! be
happy your own way, and come and see Helen when you can," said Mr.
Jerrold, laughing, as he got up to leave.

"I feel your kindness deeply, Mr. Jerrold. I hope you are not hurt or
offended?"

"Not in the least. I think you are bearing your wrongs like a saint;
and I wish I was only half as good," replied Mr. Jerrold, shaking hands
with her.

"Tell Helen that I am thankful for the flowers, and will offer them
this evening, with a prayer for her conversion, to OUR MOTHER," said
May.

"I thought her mother was dead and buried!" thought Mr. Jerrold, as he
walked down the street. "What a curious little soul she is!"