He smiled a trifle sadly.

“Talk of yourself, not of me,”—­he said, uneasily.

“Yes, but I cannot very well talk of myself now without bringing you into it,”—­she insisted,—­“And you must let me tell my story in my own way!”

He shaded his eyes again from the firelight, and listened.

“After I met you that morning,” she went on—­“I heard many things about you in the village.  Everyone seemed to love you!—­yes, even the tiniest children!  The poor people, the old and the sick, all seemed to trust you as their truest and best friend!  And when I knew all this I began to think very earnestly about the religious faith which seemed to make you what you are.  I didn’t go to church to hear you preach—­you know that!—­I only went once—­and I was late—­you remember?—­So it has not been anything you have said in the pulpit that has changed me so much.  It is just you, yourself!  It is because you live your life as you do that I want to learn to live the rest of mine just a little bit like it, even though I am crippled and more or less useless.  You will teach me, won’t you?  I want to have your faith—­your goodness—–­”

He interrupted her.

“Do not call me good!” he said, faintly—­“I cannot bear it—­I cannot!”

She looked at him, and there were tears in her eyes.

“I’m afraid you will have to bear it!” she said, softly—­“For you are good!—­you have always been good to me!  And I do honestly believe that God means everything for the best as you say, because now I am a cripple, I have escaped once and for all from the marriage my aunt was trying to force me into with Lord Roxmouth.  I thank God every minute of my life for that!”

“You never loved him?”

John’s voice was very low and tremulous as he asked this question.

“Never!” she answered, in the same low tone.  “How could you think it?”

“I did not know—­I was not quite sure—–­” he murmured.

“No, I never loved him!” she said, earnestly—­“I always feared and hated him!  And he did not love me,—­he only cared for the money my aunt would have left me had I married him.  But I have always wanted to be loved for myself—­and this has been my great trouble.  If anyone had ever really cared for me, I think it would have made me good and wise and full of trust in God—­I should have been a much better woman than I am—­I am sure I should!  People say that the love I want is only found in poems and story books, and that my fancies are quite ridiculous.  Perhaps they are.  But I can’t help it.  I am just myself and no other!” She smiled a little—­then went on—­“Lord Roxmouth has a great social position,—­but, to my mind, he has degraded it.  I could not have married a man for whom I had no respect.  You see I can talk quite easily about all this because it is past.  For of course now I am a cripple, the very idea of marriage for me is all over.  And I am really very glad it is so.  No one can spread calumnies about me, or compromise my name any more.  And even the harm Lord Roxmouth meant to try and do to you, has been stopped.  So this time God has answered my prayers.”