But Hope was no posture-maker; he turned the next moment and said a word
or two to all present.
"Yes, this is Grace Hope, my daughter. We were very poor, and her life
was in danger; I saw nothing else but that; my love was stronger than my
conscience; I gave her to that man upon a condition which he has now
broken. He saved her life and was kind to her. I thanked him; I thank him
still, and I did my best to repay him. But now he has trusted to
appearances, and not to her; he has belied and outraged her publicly. But
I am as proud of her as ever, and don't believe appearances against her
character and her angel face and--"
"No more do I," cried Julia Clifford, eagerly. "I know her. She's purity
itself, and a better woman than I shall ever be."
"Thank you, Miss Clifford," said Hope, in a broken voice; "God bless you.
Come, Grace, and share my humble home. At all events, it will shelter you
from insult."
And so the pair went lovingly away, Grace clinging to her father,
comforted for the moment, but unable to speak, and entered Hope's little
cottage.
Pages:
308
309
310
311
312
313
314
315
316
317
318
319
320
321
322
323
324
325
326
327
328
329
330
331
332