“I am glad of that admission, because I want at this very moment to interest you in a young gentleman.”

“Not a silly one, I hope,” said Mary, beginning to pluck the roses again, and feeling her heart beat uncomfortably.

“No; though perhaps wisdom is not his strong point, but rather affection and sincerity.  However, wisdom lies more in those two qualities than people are apt to imagine.  I hope you know by those marks what young gentleman I mean.”

“Yes, I think I do,” said Mary, bravely, her face getting more serious, and her hands cold; “it must be Fred Vincy.”

“He has asked me to consult you about his going into the Church.  I hope you will not think that I consented to take a liberty in promising to do so.”

“On the contrary, Mr. Farebrother,” said Mary, giving up the roses, and folding her arms, but unable to look up, “whenever you have anything to say to me I feel honored.”

“But before I enter on that question, let me just touch a point on which your father took me into confidence; by the way, it was that very evening on which I once before fulfilled a mission from Fred, just after he had gone to college.  Mr. Garth told me what happened on the night of Featherstone’s death—­how you refused to burn the will; and he said that you had some heart-prickings on that subject, because you had been the innocent means of hindering Fred from getting his ten thousand pounds.  I have kept that in mind, and I have heard something that may relieve you on that score—­ may show you that no sin-offering is demanded from you there.”

Mr. Farebrother paused a moment and looked at Mary.  He meant to give Fred his full advantage, but it would be well, he thought, to clear her mind of any superstitions, such as women sometimes follow when they do a man the wrong of marrying him as an act of atonement.  Mary’s cheeks had begun to burn a little, and she was mute.

“I mean, that your action made no real difference to Fred’s lot.  I find that the first will would not have been legally good after the burning of the last; it would not have stood if it had been disputed, and you may be sure it would have been disputed.  So, on that score, you may feel your mind free.”

“Thank you, Mr. Farebrother,” said Mary, earnestly.  “I am grateful to you for remembering my feelings.”

“Well, now I may go on.  Fred, you know, has taken his degree.  He has worked his way so far, and now the question is, what is he to do?  That question is so difficult that he is inclined to follow his father’s wishes and enter the Church, though you know better than I do that he was quite set against that formerly.  I have questioned him on the subject, and I confess I see no insuperable objection to his being a clergyman, as things go.  He says that he could turn his mind to doing his best in that vocation, on one condition.  If that condition were fulfilled I would do my utmost in helping