"Ah, that's just what I am and have been," she exclaimed vehemently; "a vile, miserable sinner.--You saw me to-day at poor Ned Taylor's funeral?" she added abruptly.

"I did, miss; and I own it took me by surprise."

"Well, Mr Bradly, I want to tell you to-night what brought me there. I know that Ned Taylor told you all about the bag, and the bracelet, and poor Joe Wright's death, because once when I called upon him in his illness, and found him alone, he said that he had confessed it all to you to ease his conscience, and that I had nothing to fear, for you were a prudent man, and would keep the story to yourself. I told him I was not afraid about that; and then we had a very serious talk together, and he begged me with many tears to forgive him for all the wicked words he had said in our house, and the bad example he had shown there; and he finished by begging and praying me to get out of the public-house and the business, where there were so many snares, and to care for my soul and a better world.

"O Mr Bradly, I can never forget his words. But they were not the first that touched me, and brought me to a sense of sin. That night when poor Wright was killed, when Ned turned that bag upside down which he told you about, a little book fell out of it under the table; but the men were so eager with their plan, and so frightened about the bracelet, that they never remembered or thought anything about the book; but I found it under the table when they were gone, for I had noticed that some of the papers out of the bag had not been put back, and I was curious to see if there was any writing on any of them, but there was not; they were only bits of silver paper and other waste paper. As I stooped to pick them up I noticed the little book, and took it up from under the table. It was an old-fashioned Bible, very faded and worn.

As I carelessly turned over a leaf or two, I noticed that a red-ink line was drawn under some of the words. Not understanding why this was done, my curiosity was a little excited, and I read a few of the verses.

There was one which seemed to have been very much read, for the Bible opened of its own accord at the place; the words were these,--'Thou wilt keep him in perfect peace, whose mind is stayed on thee: because he trusteth in thee.' My heart sank within me as I read them. I felt that I knew nothing of this peace, nor, indeed, of any peace at all. I hastily turned to another part, and my eye caught the words, which were underlined with the red mark, 'Fear not, little flock; for it is your Father's good pleasure to give you the kingdom.' I _did_ fear, and I knew I was not one of 'the little flock.'

"We used to read the Bible every day at the boarding-school I went to, and the mistress explained it, and we used to get verses by heart, and a whole chapter or part of one on Sundays; and we had to write out on Sunday evenings what we could remember of one of the sermons. But this was only task-work; and I remember agreeing with my special friend at school what a happiness it would be when we were not forced to learn any more verses. But the words of the little book were quite a different thing to me--they seemed as if they came to me from another world. They made me miserable: for they showed me what I hadn't got, which was peace; and what I was not, which was one of Christ's little flock. I had _heard_ all about it before, but I had never _felt_ about it till then. And it made me wretched as I read. So I threw down the book on the table in a pet; but somehow I couldn't let it be. So I carried it off to my bedroom, and kept reading one marked verse after another till mother called for me. But I was thinking about the little Bible all the time; and yet I didn't want to think about it, for it made me more and more unhappy.

"So I determined to get rid of it; for every time I looked at one of those red-ink lines, the words above it seemed as though they were put there to condemn me. And, besides, I was afraid that any one should see me with that Bible, and want to know where I got it; for if the owner of the bag, who was of course the owner of the Bible too, should make a noise about the loss in the town, and it were to come round to him that I'd got the Bible, he'd be wanting me to tell him what had become of the bag and the bracelet. So I resolved to get rid of the little book; but something in my heart or conscience wouldn't let me burn it, or pull it to pieces and destroy it. Then, all of a sudden, it came into my mind-- it may be that G.o.d put it there--that I would try to drop it somewhere about William Foster's house, where he or his wife would find it. I used to know Kate Foster well before I went to the boarding-school, as we were schoolfellows when we were little girls. I thought that perhaps the marked verses might do one or other of them good: for I felt how much they both needed it, and if the little book made me unhappy, possibly it might make them happy; and, at any rate, I should feel that I had done better than destroy it, and Foster's house would be the last place any one would be thinking of tracing a Bible to.

"So, late on in the evening, about ten o'clock, I crept round to the back of William Foster's house, and intended to have lifted the latch of the outer door softly, and placed the Bible on the window-sill inside.

But just then I heard Kate's voice. I could hardly believe my ears-- yes--she was praying and crying; pouring out her heart to G.o.d with tears. Oh, I was cut to the very soul; and then it rushed into my mind, 'Drop the Bible into the room,' for I had seen that the cas.e.m.e.nt was a little open. I felt pretty sure that her husband could not be in; indeed I satisfied myself that he was not in that room by cautiously peeping in. Kate's head was bowed down over the cradle, so that I was not observed. So I drew the cas.e.m.e.nt open a little further, and let the Bible fall inside. But in so doing, a ring for which I had a particular value slipped off my finger, and of course I could not recover it without making myself known."

Here Thomas Bradly took a little box out of one of his drawers, and handed it to his visitor without a word.

"Yes," she said, having opened the box, "this is the very ring; thank you very much for keeping it for me and now restoring it to me. I heard that it had got into your daughter's hands, though I didn't know how. I know I've done very wrong in telling stories about it and denying that it was mine; but I was afraid of getting myself and our house into trouble if I owned to it."

"Good," said Bradly, when she had finished her story; "the next best thing to not doing wrong is an honest confession that you've done it, and then you're on the road to doing right. I see exactly how things has gone; and now, my poor friend, what can I do for you?"

"Why, Mr Bradly, two or three things. In the first place, you won't mention what I've been telling you to the neighbours, I'm sure."

"Yes, miss, you _may_ be sure; gossiping ain't in my line at all. But, after all, there's nothing to fear so far as you're concerned, for the Bible and the ring have both got to their rightful owners."

"The Bible, Mr Bradly?"

"Yes; it's been a blessed worker, has that little book. It belongs to my sister Jane. It were she as made them red-ink marks in it. Only this is to be a secret at present, if you please. And I'm persuaded as bag, and bracelet, and all 'll turn up afore long, and then there'll be no blame to n.o.body.--But what's the next thing you want with me?"

"Why, I want to sign the pledge in your book; for, please G.o.d, I'll never touch strong drink again."

"Eh! The Lord be praised for this!" exclaimed Bradly; "you shall sign, with all the pleasure in life.--But do your parents give their consent?"

"Yes, mother does. I've had a long talk with her, and, though we keep a public-house, she has seen so much of the misery and ruin that have come from the drink, that she says she'll never stand in the way of her child being an abstainer."

"Bless her for that; she'll never regret it," said Thomas.

So the book was brought out, and the signature taken; and then both knelt, while Bradly commended his young friend to that grace and protection which could alone secure her stability.

"And what else can I do for you?" he asked, when they had risen from prayer.

"Please, Mr Bradly, I want you to help me get some situation at a distance from Crossbourne, where I can earn my own living as a teacher.

Mother is quite agreeable to my doing so; indeed, she sees that our house is not a safe and proper place for me now, and she'll be very thankful if I can get a situation where I shall be out of the reach of so much evil as goes on more or less in a place like ours."

"I'll do that too, with all my heart," said the other, "as far as in me lies. I'll speak to the vicar, and I know he'll do his best to get you suited. You've had a good education, so he'll be able to find you summat as'll fit, I've no doubt.--And now I'm going to ask you, miss, just to accept a little Bible from me, instead of that one which you've helped to send back to its right owner; and I want you to make it your daily guide." So saying, he took from a shelf, where he kept a little store of Scriptures, a new Bible, and sitting down, wrote Lydia Philips's name within the cover, and his own beneath it as the giver; and then, below all, the two texts, "Thou wilt keep him in perfect peace, whose mind is stayed on thee: because he trusteth in thee;" and, "Fear not, little flock; for it is your Father's good pleasure to give you the kingdom." These he underlined with red-ink. "Now," he said, "you'll keep this little book, I'm sure, to remind you of our meeting to-night. Read it with prayer, and you'll soon find peace, if you haven't begun to find it already."

The young woman received the little gift most gratefully, and said, "I will keep it, and read it daily, Mr Bradly; and I do think that I am beginning to see my way to peace. Poor Ned Taylor's words have not been in vain; and what you have said to-night has helped me on the way. I know I am not worthy to be called G.o.d's child, but I think, nay, I feel sure, he will not cast me out. I have wandered far, very far, from the fold; but now I really feel and understand the love of Jesus, and that he has come to seek and to save that which was lost."

When his visitor was gone, Bradly spent a few minutes alone in earnest prayer and thanksgiving, and then, with a bright face, entered his cozy kitchen, and drew his chair close to Jane's.

"Another little link," he said, "or, perhaps, one of the old ones made a little stronger." She looked smilingly at him, but did not speak. Then he told her of Lydia Philips's visit and conversation with himself.

"You see," he continued, "Lydia fully confirms poor Ned Taylor's story; but then she brings us no nearer the bag. However, the Lord can find it for us, or show us as there's something better for us than finding it, if that be his will."

"True, Thomas," said his sister; "and now 'the next thing' is for you to see the vicar about Lydia Philips and her situation."

"Just so, dear Jane; I'll do so, if I'm spared to-morrow."

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN.

ALL RIGHT.

Ernest Maltby was deeply interested in the account which Thomas Bradly gave him of the work going on in the heart of Lydia Philips.

"This is the Lord's doing," he said, "and is marvellous in our eyes. I am so glad that she came to you, Thomas; and equally so that you have come to me about her, for I think I know of a situation that may suit her nicely."

"Indeed, sir; I'm truly glad of that."

"Yes; I heard yesterday from our old friend Dr Prosser that he is wanting to find just such a young woman as Lydia Philips to fill a place which is now vacant, and the appointment to which is in his hands. I will write to him about her at once, if Lydia is willing to go. Perhaps you would be good enough to call at her house as you go by, and ask her to step up and speak to me.--By the way, Thomas, have you heard anything more about the bag since poor Taylor made his confession to you? I have been so busy lately that I have quite forgotten to ask you."

"Nothing, sir, but Lydia's story; and that, as you see, merely confirms poor Ned's account. We're fast now: the bag's been in London half a year now, or thereabouts, if it hasn't been destroyed long ago; and, if it's still in existence somewhere or other, we've nothing whatever to show us where. I've not liked to trouble you any more about it, but I've left no stone unturned. I got a friend of mine, the guard of one of the trains, to inquire at the left-luggage office at Saint Pancras; and I put an advertis.e.m.e.nt for a week together into the London papers, offering five pounds reward to any one as'd bring the bag just as it was when it was lost; but it were all of no use, and I didn't expect as it would be, as it were taken up to London so long ago. It would have turned up months since if it had got into honest hands, and they had found our address in the bag. But I thought it best to try everything I could think of. And now me and Jane's satisfied to leave it to the Lord to find it for us in his own way."

"Yes," replied the vicar, "that is your truly wise and happy course; and now you can patiently wait.--But stay; it just occurs to me, now I have been mentioning Dr Prosser, that he must have been travelling by the very train on to which the bag was dropped. It was the night of 23rd December last, was it not?"

"Yes, sir, that was the night."

"And it was dropped on to the express train from the north to London?"

"It was, sir; but what then?"

"Why, don't you remember what the doctor said as we were walking with him to the station the morning when he left us? Don't you remember his saying that his luggage was put on the top of the carriage he was in, and that he was angry with the porter for his carelessness in not covering it properly?"

"Yes, sir; I think I remember it now, but other things have put it out of my head."

"Well, Thomas, it seems to me not at all impossible that the bag was dropped on to this carriage; and you know that the train did not stop till it reached London."

"Well, sir?"

"Might not the bag have been reckoned by the porter at London as part of the doctor's luggage, if it was just on the top of it, and have been carried off by him?"

"Possible, sir, but I'm afraid not very likely."

"No, perhaps not, but, as you admit, possible."

"True, sir; but if Dr Prosser took it home, and found it had been a mistake, wouldn't he have sent it back to the luggage office; and if so, the guard would have found it there when he inquired by my wish."