"I wish we had one friend," I sobbed, thinking
of all our townspeople, who were going
about their business and pleasure without any
care for us, and we had no one to help us.

"We have a friend," said Felicia, many
minutes afterwards, as if she had not dared to
mention him before, "and to-morrow I will send
for him. Lawrence Garforth, Bessie; but we
shall have to tell him all. We will abide by
his decision."

It was not strange that I should lie awake all
night, scarcely believing that these events were
real. I waited through the long and weary
hours of the morning for the arrival of Mr.
Garforth, who was to decide what I was to
do, and the death-like paleness of Felicia as
the time drew near increased my vague
apprehensions. It was I who had to admit him
—a grave, stern-looking man, not the head boy
I dimly remembered, into whose face I dared not
to glance, as I conducted him through the empty
lobby to our desolate parlour, where Felicia was
waiting for him: Felicia, in her faded dress, but
with a soft dawn of colour on her delicate face,
and with downcast eyelids, which she could not
raise as he approached her.

"Felicia—Miss Crompton," he said, eagerly,
''I was not prepared for this. Why did you not
send for me at once?"

"The trouble is my sister's," she answered,
in her cold, quiet tone. "I should not have sent
for you on my own account merely."

She drew me to her side with an unusual show
of affection; but, as if recollecting herself, pushed
me gently away from her, while she told him an
abrupt, unvarnished narrative, giving the bare
details of our life for the last twelve months,
without a word to appeal to his sympathy or
interest, until she came to my crime of yesterday.
Then she spoke with tears, and with
every plea on my behalf which could soften his
judgment and reprobation.

"You know," said the lawyer, suddenly and
sharply, "that Pim must bear it, if he will, and
there seems no doubt about that, poor fellow.
Your, sister cannot take the consequences of
her imprudent act upon herself."

For the first time I met his eyes, which before
had been fastened on Felicia's face; deep,
tranquil eyes, that won my confidence at once. He
saw it, and smiled rather sadly.

"The consequences are worse than the fault,"
he continued, "and you cannot bear them, child.
We cannot lay bare the history of your family
before the public. We dare not expose you to
the position in which Pim is placed; and the
punishment will not be all his."

"But for Pim to be in jail," I cried. "Oh,
Mr. Garforth, you do not know what he has been
to us, and I would rather bear the disgrace and
imprisonment myself a thousand times."

"I know all, little Bessie," he replied; "and
knowing all, I decide as I do. Go away now; I
wish to speak to your sister alone."

I left them together. I heard Bell's shrill
little voice calling to me from the garden,
and I went out to her, under the windows of the
parlour, where Felicia was conversing with Mr.
Garforth. He was regarding us furtively from
one side of the deep embrasure, and I saw him
for a moment cover his face with his hands in a
quick, mute gesture of trouble.

We went the next day—Felicia, and Mr.
Garforth, and I—to see Pim in the prison at
Shawbury. I clung to Mr. Garforth's steady
arm, but Felicia walked before us with her
smooth tranquil step, and slightly bended head,
as if the long, low passages and jealously-locked
gates could not move her frigid quietism, nor the
thought of seeing Pim a prisoner quicken a
throb of her languid pulse. Even when we
stopped before the door of his cell, and the
turnkey was unfastening the massive lock, she
did not turn to us, nor stand on one side for Mr.
Garforth to enter first.

Pim was at work when we went in, and looked
up shyly, witli a glance of shame and despondency,
which was changing into one of delight
at seeing Felicia and me, when his eyes fell
upon Mr. Garforth, and then he started to his
feet with a bitter cry.

"Oh, Miss Bessie, you've told," he exclaimed,
"and you've told him! I wouldn't have had
you tell him for all the world. Anybody but
him; anybody but the head boy. He knows
enough about us already."

"Come, Pim," said Mr. Garforth, laying his
hand on his shoulder, "you forget that the
monitor knows everything in school and out. You
should have more confidence in me. Do you think
I shall ever forget Tamford Grammar School?"

"No, sir; no, Mr. Lawrence," he sobbed,
"we can't either of us forget the school; nor
Mrs. Crompton, God bless her; and I should
be ashamed of seeing her face in heaven if any
harm came to the children—any worse harm. It
was only a young thing's curiosity as cannot
leave things alone, but must root them out
somehow; and, Lord love you! being here don't
hurt me a bit, but it 'ud kill her a little,
delicate, tender creature like her. I've chapel every
morning, and it's fetching up my religion better
than at home. Besides, it wasn't altogether her
fault; she was driven to it."

Mr. Garforth bent his head without speaking.

"And I've been thinking," continued Pim,
falling into a reverential tone, "that somehow it's
the grandest thing a poor man like me can do, who
was born a shame, to bear trouble and disgrace
for somebody else, and save them. You see, by
having my life a little bit heavier and harder, I
can make hers light and easy, as it ought to
be. Bless you, when I think I can save
little Miss Bessie; save you, my dear; I feel
as proud as if the cell couldn't hold me.
I'm not ashamed of being born; and I shan't
be ashamed when I stand before The Judge. If
I've not done my duty by Miss Crompton, and
Mr. Edward, I shall have done it by you; and
if ever I have a chance in heaven, I shall be
bold to tell your blessed mother——"

"But I cannot bear it, Pirn," I said, weeping
till my words were lost in sobs.

They tried to comfort me, making light of