"Yes, dear, it must be to-night; if there is any hardness left in your heart it will melt when you see this sinner, whom G.o.d has forgiven."

"Angus, you are all tenderness and love to him; I cannot aspire to your nature, I cannot. To this man, who has caused such misery and sin, I feel hard. Charlotte I pity, Charlotte I love; but this man, this man who deliberately could rob my dead mother! It is against human nature to feel very sorry for him."

"You mean to tell me, Charlotte, that you refuse to forgive him?"

"No; eventually you will conquer me; but just now, I confess, my heart is not full of pity."

Mr. Home thought for a moment. He was pained by his wife's want of sympathy. Then he reflected that she had not seen Mr. Harman. It was plain, however, that they must not meet until her spirit towards him had changed.

"Do not stop at Prince's Gate," he called out to the cabby, "drive on until I ask you to stop."

During the drive that followed, he told his wife Mr. Harman's story. He told it well, for when he had finished, Charlotte turned to him eyes which had shed some tears.

"Does Charlotte know of this?" she said.

"I do not think so. Will you come to Mr. Harman now?"

"Yes. I will come on one condition!"

"What is that?"

"That I may see Charlotte afterwards."

"I am sure that can be managed."

Then Mr. Home desired the cabby to stop at Prince's Gate. A sleepy-looking servant waited up for them. He manifested no surprise at sight of the lady and gentleman at such an hour. Mr. Home took his wife's hand, and the servant led them straight to his master's study.

"I have told her the story," said Mr. Home; "she is your father's child, she comes to----" Here the clergyman paused and looked at his wife, he wanted the word "forgive" to come from her own lips. Mrs. Home had grown white to her very lips. Now instead of replying, she fell upon her knees and covered her face.

"Charlotte," said Mr. Harman, "can you do what this clergyman wants? Can you forgive the sin?" There was no answer; Mrs. Home was sobbing aloud.

"I have robbed you, I have robbed you most cruelly. My dying father asked me to be good to you; I have been worse than cruel. You see before you an old, old man, as great a sinner as can be found on G.o.d's earth.

Can you forgive me? Dare I ask it? At last, at last I make full reparation; I repent me, in dust and ashes; I repent, and I restore all fourfold." But here Charlotte Home had risen suddenly to her feet. She came up close to Mr. Harman, and taking his hand raised it to her lips.

"My husband has told me all. I, I quite forgive you," she said.

Mr. Harman glanced at the clergyman. "Your husband?" he said.

"Yes; she is my wife," answered Mr. Home. "Sir, you heard my wife say that she quite forgives. You may go to rest to-night, with a very peaceful heart; the peace of G.o.d which pa.s.ses all understanding may encompa.s.s your pillow to-night. It is late and you have gone through much, may I go with you to your room? There will be many explanations yet to make; but though a clergyman, I am also in some measure a physician. I see you can go through no more emotion to-night, rest satisfied that all explanations can wait till to-morrow."

"I will go with you," answered Mr. Harman, "but may I first thank your wife?" Charlotte Home's bonnet had fallen off as she knelt on the floor, now suddenly a withered and trembling hand was placed on her head. "G.o.d bless you! Even from a sinner like me, such words from a full heart must be heard."

"Ay," said Mr. Home, in a loud, exultant voice, "the Prince of peace and forgiveness has come into this house to-night."

CHAPTER LIV.

CHARLOTTE'S ROOM.

Mr. Home and Mr. Harman went away together, and Charlotte was left alone in the study. By the profound stillness which now reigned in the house she guessed that every one had gone to bed. The servant who had admitted them at so late an hour had looked sleepy as he had done so. Doubtless Mr. Harman had desired him not to wait longer. Charlotte felt there was no use in ringing a bell. She scarcely knew her way about this great house. Nevertheless she must find Charlotte; she could not wait until the morning to throw her arms round her neck. She took one of the candles from the mantelpiece and began her tour through the silent house. She felt strangely timid as she commenced this midnight pilgrimage. The softly-carpeted stairs echoed back no footfall; she pa.s.sed door after door. At last she recognized Charlotte's own private sitting-room, she had been there two or three times, but had never seen the room where her friend slept. A corridor, however, ran directly from this sitting-room, and Charlotte saw a closed door at the further end.

"That must be the room," she said to herself, and she went straight towards it. The door was closed, but Charlotte heard a faint sound within. Instantly on hearing it she knocked lightly, but distinctly.

There was a quick sound of hurried and surprised feet, and Charlotte Harman opened the door. Her eyes were heavy and red, as though she had been weeping. Her face was pale. She had not begun to undress.

"Charlotte; Charlotte Home!" she exclaimed. "Oh, what is wrong? My father!"

"Nothing is wrong, dear Charlotte, dear, dear Charlotte; but may I come in? I have a great deal to tell you."

"Oh, I shall be glad! but how astonished I am to see you. I could not sleep. Yes, come in, you shall keep me company. Charlotte, you have been crying. Charlotte, there _is_ something wrong."

"You may well be surprised to see me here," said Mrs. Home, "but, strange as it may seem, things are more right than wrong. My husband came first, then he brought me."

"Yes, I saw Mr. Home early in the evening. I saw him go into my father's study. When he went away I went there myself; but the door was locked, and my father called out from within, 'Not to-night, my child; don't sit up for me, come to me in the morning, I would rather be alone to-night.'

He never before refused to see me to say good-night. I went to my room.

I could not rest. Everything seems very dark. I have been crying, and now you have come. Oh, Charlotte! what is the meaning of it all?"

"The meaning is good, Charlotte; but good or bad, you have to thank yourself for it. Why did you take your father to my husband's church on Sunday?"

"He came to me on Sunday morning," answered Miss Harman. "He said he would like to go to church with me. He never did go to church with me--never, for many months. I asked him where he would go. He said he would leave it to me. Then it flashed across me that he did not know Mr.

Home, also that I had never heard Mr. Home preach. I resolved to go to his church. We drove to Kentish Town. I made a few inquiries. I found out the little church where your husband told the people of his congregation how best to live, how best to die. Ah, Charlotte! he _did_ preach to us. What a man he is!"

"He realizes the absolute daily presence of G.o.d more perfectly than any man I ever met," answered the wife. "My dear, it was G.o.d himself led you to my husband's church on Sunday. Your father went there again to-day.

After the service he stopped to speak to Angus. He asked him to come to him this evening. This evening he told my husband all; all the story of his sin, his repentance. Angus heard all, and when it was over he sent for me. I saw your father. Charlotte, your father may have been a sinner, but with such sinners, as he was once, the New Jerusalem will be filled by and by. Ah! thank G.o.d for the peace I saw on his face before I left him. Do you know that he put his hand on my head and blessed me.

Angus is with him now, and I have come to you."

"My father has told all!" said Charlotte Harman. Her face could scarcely grow any whiter. She made no further exclamation, but sat quiet.

Charlotte Home, having told her story, watched her face. Suddenly, with tears springing to her eyes, she turned to the wife and mother who stood by her side.

"Charlotte, how hard my heart has been! I have pa.s.sed through some dreadful weeks. Oh! how heavy was my burden, how heavy was my heart! My heart was growing very hard; but the hardness has gone now. Now, Charlotte, I believe, I believe fully what your little Harold said to me some weeks ago."

"What did he say to you, dearest?"

"He said that Jesus Christ loved me very much. Yes, I believe Jesus does love me very much. Oh, Charlotte! do you know that I am tired and rested, and I want to sleep altogether. Will you lie down beside me? You will not leave me to-night?"

"No, darling; I will not leave you to-night."

CHAPTER LV.

HOW SANDY WILSON SPEAKS OUT HIS MIND.

Early in the morning, the father and daughter met. Not very many words pa.s.sed between them. Mr. Harman knew that Mrs. Home had told Charlotte all. Now, coming to his side, she put her arms about him, and knelt, looking into his face.

"Charlotte, you know what I have been," he said.