walked beside him quietly for a little time, then, taking his hand in
both of hers, gently lifted it to her lips and laid it upon her
breast. Half an hour afterward Brandon left the girls at Bridewell
House, went over to the Bridge where he had left his horse at a
hostelry, and rode down to Greenwich.

So Mary had made her trip to Grouche's, but it was labor worse than
lost. Grouche had told her nothing she wanted to know, though much
that he supposed she would like to learn. He had told her she had many
lovers, a fact which her face and form would make easy enough to
discover. He informed her also that she had a low-born lover, and in
order to put a little evil in with the good fortune, and give what he
said an air of truth, he added to Mary's state of unrest more than he
thought by telling her that her low-born lover was false. He thought
to flatter her by predicting that she would soon marry a very great
prince or nobleman, the indications being in favor of the former, and,
in place of this making her happy, she wished the wretched soothsayer
in the bottomless pit--he and all his prophecies; herself, too, for
going to him. His guesses were pretty shrewd; that is, admitting he
did not know who Mary was, which she at least supposed was the case.
So Mary wept that night and moaned and moaned because she had gone to
Grouche's. It had added infinitely to the pain of which her heart was
already too full, and made her thoroughly wretched and unhappy. As
usual though, with the blunders of stubborn, self-willed people, some
one else had to pay the cost of her folly. Brandon was paymaster in
this case, and when you see how dearly he paid, and how poorly she
requited the debt, I fear you will despise her. Wait, though! Be not
hasty. The right of judgment belongs to--you know whom. No man knows
another man's heart, much less a woman's, so how can he judge? We
shall all have more than enough of judging by and by. So let us put