side of her bed, she knelt, her face buried in her hands, and he heard,
low and indistinct, the murmur broken by the sob. But gradually, as he
stood unperceived, sob and murmur ceased,--prayer had its customary and
blessed effect with the pure and earnest. And when Susan rose, though the
tears yet rolled down her cheeks, the face was serene as an angel's.

The pastor approached and took her hand; a blush then broke over her
countenance,--she trembled, and her eyes fell on the ground. "My child,"
he said solemnly, "God will hear you!" And after those words there was a
long silence. He then drew her passively towards a seat, and sat down by
her, embarrassed how to begin. At length he said, looking somewhat
aside, "Mr. Mainwaring has made me a request,--a prayer which relates to
you, and which I refer to you. He asks you to grant him an interview
before you leave us,--to-morrow, if you will. I refused at first,--I am
in doubt still; for, my dear, I have always found that when the feelings
move us, our duty becomes less clear to the human heart,--corrupt, we
know, but still it is often a safer guide than our reason. I never knew
reason unerring, except in mathematics; we have no Euclid," and the good
man smiled mournfully, "in the problems of real life. I will not urge
you one way or the other; I put the case before you: Would it, as the
young man says, give you comfort and strength to see him once again
while, while--in short, before your sister is--I mean before--that is,
would it soothe you now, to have an unreserved communication with him?
He implores it. What shall I answer?"

"This trial, too!" muttered Susan, almost inaudibly,--"this trial which I
once yearned for; "and the hand clasped in Fielden's was as cold as ice.
Then, turning her eyes to her guardian somewhat wildly, she cried: "But
to what end, what object? Why should he wish to see me?"