And she had a sort o’ smile I couldn’t quite understand.  She’ll be a good wife to you, Sidney.  Her heart’s softened to all as she used to care for.  She’ll be a good and faithful wife to you as long as she lives.  But I must go back home and speak to her.  There ain’t a man livin’, let him be as rich as he may, that feels such happiness as you’ve given me to-night.’

He went stumbling down the stairs, and walked homewards at a great speed, so that when he reached the Buildings he had to wipe his face and stand for a moment before beginning the ascent.  The children were at their home lessons; he astonished them by flinging his hat mirthfully on to the table.

‘Now then, father!’ cried young Tom, the eight-year-old, whose pen was knocked out of his hand.

With a chuckle John advanced to Clara’s room.  As he closed the door behind him she rose.  His face was mottled; there were tear-stains about his eyes, and he had a wild, breathless look.

‘An’ you never told me!  You let me go without half a word!’

Clara put her hands upon his shoulders and kissed him.  ’I didn’t quite know whether it was true or not, father.’

‘My darling!  My dear girl!  Come an’ sit on my knee, like you used to when you was a little ’un.  I’m a rough old father for such as you, but nobody’ll never love you better than I do, an’ always have done.  So he’s been faithful to you, for all they said.  There ain’t a better man livin’!  “It’s a long time since I first asked the question,” he says, “but she’s give me the right answer at last.”  And he looks that glad of it.’

‘He does?  You’re sure he does?’

‘Sure?  Why, you should a’ seen him when I went into the room!  There’s nothing more as I wish for now.  I only hope I may live a while longer, to see you forget all your troubles, my dear.  He’ll make you happy, will Sidney; he’s got a deal more education than anyone else I ever knew, and you’ll suit each other.  But you won’t forget all about your old father?  You’ll let me come an’ have a talk with you now and then, my dear, just you an’ me together, you know?’

’I shall love you and be grateful to you always, father You’ve kept a warm heart for me all this time.’

’I couldn’t do nothing else, Clara; you’ve always been what I loved most, and you always will be.’

‘If I hadn’t had you to come back to, what would have become of me?’

‘We’ll never think of that.  We’ll never speak another word of that.’

‘Father—­Oh, if I had my face again!  If I had my own face!’

A great anguish shook her; she lay hi his arms and sobbed.  It was the farewell, even in her fulness of heart and deep sense of consolation, to all she had most vehemently desired, Gratitude and self-pity being indivisible in her emotions, she knew not herself whether the ache of regret or the soothing restfulness of deliverance made her tears flow.  But at least there was no conscious duplicity, and for the moment no doubt that she had found her haven.  It is a virtuous world, and our frequent condemnations are invariably based on justice; will it be greatly harmful if for once we temper our righteous judgment with ever so little mercy?