“Oh, I don’t lay it up against you,” said the girl, almost coldly.  She had drawn away from him quickly and put her hands behind her.  “I suppose you thought I was a dangerous person to be at large—­well, perhaps you were right; there’s no telling what a jealous woman will do.  Did they tell you, Mr. Denton, that I was jealous of Miss Marvin?”

There was a steely ring to her tones as she said the words, and the glance of her eyes was both cold and cruel.

“I heard that it was on account of my son,” was Mr. Denton’s sad answer.  “I am very sorry indeed, Miss Brady, if James ever deceived you.”

“Oh, he hasn’t deceived me a bit,” said the girl quickly.  “On the contrary, he took pains to parade his attentions before me.”

She laughed a harsh, grating laugh as she answered.  Mr. Denton looked puzzled.  He could not understand her.

“But perhaps you expected too much from his attentions,” said Mr. Denton gently.  “Young men are often unscrupulous and say more than they mean to young women.  Perhaps he led you to believe that he cared more for you than he did, and in this way gained your affections and did not appreciate them.”

“He did all that,” said the girl, very coldly; “and I was not the woman to endure such treatment calmly.  I’m sorry if I was mistaken in Miss Marvin’s part in the matter.  She says she was innocent, and I’m willing to believe her.”

“Well, what can I do for you?” asked Mr. Denton kindly.  “I have already tried to get your case dismissed, and as Miss Marvin refuses to appear against you I think we shall be successful.  But if there is anything that James has done—­any wrong that I can right, you have only to say so, and I will try to do my duty.”

Miss Brady stared at the speaker in undisguised amazement.  She could hardly believe that it was Mr. Denton who was speaking.  As her employer he had always been cold and distant.  She had never looked on him as anything more or less than a despot and tyrant.

“Mr. Denton is perfectly sincere, Maggie,” said Faith quickly as she noticed the amazement depicted on her countenance.

“But I don’t understand,” said the girl, still staring.

“Let me explain,” said Faith quickly, “and you must try and believe me, Maggie.  Both Mr. Denton and myself are thinking only of your good.  We want to help you to see this awful sin which you have committed in the right light—­that is, as a sin not only against yourself and your fellow beings, but against the God who made you and who wishes you to love Him.”

As she spoke she put her arms around the girl in an affectionate manner.  Maggie did not draw away, but remained silent and passive.

“You see, Maggie, you are not wronging any one by your bad temper and your stubbornness as much as you are wronging yourself.  These sins always react on one’s self, you know.  They may hurt and grieve others in some degree, but they sear your own heart with the wounds of agony and shut the light of God’s tenderness from your soul.  Can you not see it, Maggie, how you have marred your own happiness?  Do try, dear, to humble your stubborn spirit?  Ask God to help you forgive those who wrong you.  Believe me, it will make you far happier than this cowardly revenge.”