‘No,’ said Margaret, sadly, ‘I will do it. Give me till tomorrow evening to choose my time Oh, papa,’ cried she, with sudden passionate entreaty, ‘say — tell me it is a night-mare — a horrid dream — not the real waking truth! You cannot mean that you are really going to leave the Church — to give up Helstone — to be for ever separate from me, from mamma — led away by some delusion — some temptation! You do not really mean it!’

Mr. Hale sat in rigid stillness while she spoke.

Then he looked her in the face, and said in a slow, hoarse, measured way —‘I do mean it, Margaret. You must not deceive yourself into doubting the reality of my words — my fixed intention and resolve.’ He looked at her in the same steady, stony manner, for some moments after he had done speaking. She, too, gazed back with pleading eyes before she would believe that it was irrevocable. Then she arose and went, without another word or look, towards the door. As her fingers were on the handle he called her back. He was standing by the fireplace, shrunk and stooping; but as she came near he drew himself up to his full height, and, placing his hands on her head, he said, solemnly:

‘The blessing of God be upon thee, my child!’

‘And may He restore you to His Church,’ responded she, out of the fulness of her heart. The next moment she feared lest this answer to his blessing might be irreverent, wrong — might hurt him as coming from his daughter, and she threw her arms round his neck. He held her to him for a minute or two. She heard him murmur to himself, ‘The martyrs and confessors had even more pain to bear — I will not shrink.’

They were startled by hearing Mrs. Hale inquiring for her daughter. They started asunder in the full consciousness of all that was before them. Mr. Hale hurriedly said —‘Go, Margaret, go. I shall be out all tomorrow. Before night you will have told your mother.’

‘Yes,’ she replied, and she returned to the drawing-room in a stunned and dizzy state.

‘I ask Thee for a thoughtful love,

(Editor：map)