"What a shame!" exclaimed another, looking indignantly at Mary.

"That's what I call regular jilting," said a third. "And he lying
cold and bloody in his coffin now!"

Mary was more thankful than she could express, when Miss Simmonds
returned, to put a stop to Sally's communications, and to check the
remarks of the girls.

She longed for the peace of Alice's sick-room. No more thinking
with infinite delight of her anticipated meeting with Jem; she felt
too much shocked for that now; but longing for peace and kindness,
for the images of rest and beauty, and sinless times long ago, which
the poor old woman's rambling presented, she wished to be as near
death as Alice; and to have struggled through this world, whose
sufferings she had early learnt, and whose crimes now seemed
pressing close upon her. Old texts from the Bible, that her mother
used to read (or rather spell out) aloud in the days of childhood,
came up to her memory. "Where the wicked cease from troubling, and
the weary are at rest." "And God shall wipe away all tears from
their eyes," etc. And it was to that world Alice was hastening!
Oh! that she were Alice!

I must return to the Wilsons' house, which was far from being the
abode of peace that Mary was picturing it to herself. You remember
the reward Mr. Carson offered for the apprehension of the murderer
of his son? It was in itself a temptation, and to aid its efficacy
came the natural sympathy for the aged parents mourning for their
child, for the young man cut off in the flower of his days; and
besides this, there is always a pleasure in unravelling a mystery,