“I have deserved this,” Mr. Benson replied.  “But,” continued he, after a moment’s pause, “I will not speak of myself, but of Ruth.  Surely, sir, the end I aimed at (the means I took to obtain it were wrong; you cannot feel that more than I do) was a right one; and you will not—­you cannot say that your children have suffered from associating with her.  I had her in my family, under the watchful eyes of three anxious persons for a year or more; we saw faults—­no human being is without them—­and poor Ruth’s were but slight venial errors; but we saw no sign of a corrupt mind—­no glimpse of boldness or forwardness—­no token of want of conscientiousness; she seemed, and was, a young and gentle girl, who had been led astray before she fairly knew what life was.”

“I suppose most depraved women have been innocent in their time,” said Mr. Bradshaw, with bitter contempt.

“Oh, Mr. Bradshaw!  Ruth was not depraved, and you know it.  You cannot have seen her—­have known her daily, all these years, without acknowledging that!” Mr. Benson was almost breathless, awaiting Mr. Bradshaw’s answer.  The quiet self-control which he had maintained so long was gone now.

“I saw her daily—­I did not know her.  If I had known her, I should have known she was fallen and depraved, and consequently not fit to come into my house, nor to associate with my pure children.”

“Now I wish God would give me power to speak out convincingly what I believe to be His truth, that not every woman who has fallen is depraved; that many—­how many the Great Judgment Day will reveal to those who have shaken off the poor, sore, penitent hearts on earth—­many, many crave and hunger after a chance of virtue—­the help which no man gives to them—­help—­that gentle, tender help which Jesus gave once to Mary Magdalen.”  Mr. Benson was almost choked by his own feelings.

“Come, come, Mr. Benson, let us have no more of this morbid way of talking.  The world has decided how such women are to be treated; and, you may depend upon it, there is so much practical wisdom in the world, that its way of acting is right in the long-run, and that no one can fly in its face with impunity, unless, indeed, they stoop to deceit and imposition.”

“I take my stand with Christ against the world,” said Mr. Benson solemnly, disregarding the covert allusion to himself.  “What have the world’s ways ended in?  Can we be much worse than we are?”

“Speak for yourself, if you please.”

“Is it not time to change some of our ways of thinking and acting?  I declare before God, that if I believe in any one human truth, it is this—­that to every woman who, like Ruth, has sinned should be given a chance of self-redemption—­and that such a chance should be given in no supercilious or contemptuous manner, but in the spirit of the holy Christ.”

“Such as getting her into a friend’s house under false colours.”