him among them.'

'What do you call this?' said Dr. May, understanding her, indeed, but
willing to hear her thought expressed.

'Thankworthy,' she answered, with a twitching of the corners of her
mouth.

'You will suffer for this exaltation,' he said, sadly; 'you know you
have a tender heart, for all your flights.'

'And you know you have a soul as well as a heart,' said Ethel, as
well as the swelling in her throat would allow.

'To be sure, this world would be a poor place to live in, if
admiration did not make pity bearable,' said the Doctor; 'but--but
don't ask me, Ethel: you have not had that fine fellow in his manly
patience before your eyes. Talk of your knowing him! You knew a
boy! I tell you, this has made him a man, and one of a thousand--so
high-minded and so simple, so clearheaded and well-balanced, so
entirely resigned and free from bitterness! What could he not be?
It would be grievous to see him cut off by a direct dispensation--
sickness, accident, battle; but for him to come to such an end, for
the sake of a double murderer--Ethel--it would almost stagger one's
faith!'

'Almost!' repeated Ethel, with the smile of a conqueror.

'I know, I know,' said the Doctor. 'If it be so, it will be right;
one will try to believe it good for him. Nay, there's proof enough