she touched her forehead. "They called me an idiot before I knew
/him/!--No, I could not live with others, for I can only cry when nobody
but my child is with me."

This was said with such unconscious, and therefore with such pathetic,
simplicity, that the banker was sensibly affected. He rose, stirred the
fire, resettled himself, and, after a pause, said emphatically: "Alice,
I will be your friend. Let me believe you will deserve it."

Alice bent her graceful head, and seeing that he had sunk into an
abstracted silence, she thought it time for her to withdraw.

"She is, indeed, beautiful," said the banker, almost aloud, when he
was alone; "and the old lady is right--she is as innocent as if she had
not fallen. I wonder--" Here he stopped short, and walked to the glass
over the mantelpiece, where he was still gazing on his own features,
when Mrs. Leslie returned.

"Well, sir," said she, a little surprised at this seeming vanity in so
pious a man.

The banker started. "Madam, I honour your penetration as much as your
charity; I think that there is so much to be feared in letting all the
world know this young female's past error, that, though I dare not
advise, I cannot blame, your concealment of it."

"But, sir, your words have sunk deep into my thoughts; you said every
deviation from truth was a forfeiture of duty."

"Certainly; but there are some exceptions. The world is a bad world, we