"
She stopped and swallowed hard. Betty held her hands firmly until she
went on.
"For a few minutes, I sat still, and tried to think of some new
subject--something about the church or the village. But I could not
begin to speak because of the lump in my throat. And then, suddenly, but
quietly, Mr. Ffolliott got up. And though I dared not lift my eyes, I
knew he was standing before the fire, quite near me. And, oh! what do
you think he said, as low and gently as if his voice was a woman's.
I did not know that people ever said such things now, or even thought
them. But never, never shall I forget that strange minute. He said just
this:
"'God will help you. He will. He will.'
"As if it was true, Betty! As if there was a God--and--He had not
forgotten me. I did not know what I was doing, but I put out my hand and
caught at his sleeve, and when I looked up into his face, I saw in
his kind, good eyes, that he knew--that somehow--God knows how--he
understood and that I need not utter a word to explain to him that he
had been listening to lies."
"Did you talk to him?" Betty asked quietly.
"He talked to me. We did not even speak of Nigel. He talked to me as
I had never heard anyone talk before.
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