“I dare say you did what you could to mend it afterwards, Winnie.”

“O yes; —­ and she didn’t think anything of it at all; but I am always doing so, Winthrop.”

“You never do it to me,” said her brother soothingly.

“To you! —­ But O Winthrop! —­ if I loved God enough, I never should do anything to displease him!”

She had thrown herself further into her brother’s arms and at this was weeping with all her heart.

“He said once himself,” said Winthrop, “’Blessed are they that mourn now, for they shall be comforted.’”

Winnie clung faster to him, with a grateful clasp, and her tears came more gently.

“We sha’n’t be quit of it till we get to heaven, Winnie; —­ and ‘the people that dwell therein,’ you know, ’shall be forgiven their iniquity.’  And more than that, ’white robes are given unto every one of them.’  ’And they shall see the King’s face, and his name shall be in their foreheads.’”

“I wish it was in mine now!” said Winnie.

“Stop, Winnie. —­ I hope it is there, —­ only not so bright as it will be by and by.”

“But it ought to be bright now,” said Winnie raising herself.

“Let it be brighter every day then,” said her brother.

“I do try, Governor,” said poor Winnie, —­ “but sometimes I think I don’t get ahead at all!”

It was with great tenderness that again he put his arm round her, and drew down her head upon him, and pressed her close to his side.

“Rest! —­” said he, —­ “and trust what is written, that ’they shall praise the Lord that seek him.’  ’Wait on the Lord; be of good courage, and he shall strengthen thine heart; wait, I say, on the Lord.’”

“How much better I feel already,” said poor Winnie presently.

There was a long silence.  Winnie lay there still, and Winthrop was softly playing with one of her hands and striking it and stroking it against his own.  The air came in fresh and cool from the sea and put the candle flame out of all propriety of behaviour; it flared and smoked, and melted the candle sideways, and threatened every now and then to go out entirely; but Winnie lay looking at Winthrop’s hand which the moonlight shone upon, and Winthrop —­ nobody knows what he was looking at; but neither of them saw the candle.  Winnie was the one to break the silence.

“What sort of a person is she, Winthrop?”

“Who?” said her brother.

“What? —­ O, I mean —­ I meant —­ I meant, who was here to-day, —­ Miss Haye.”

“You have seen her, Winnie,” he said after a moment’s hesitation.

“Yes, but you know her.  Do you think she is a person I would like?”

“I do not know.”

“You don’t know! —­”

“But you know her, Winthrop,” said Winnie a little timidly, when she found he added nothing to his former words.

“Yes.”

“Don’t you like her?”