They leaned a little closer together.
Fay's timid eyes sought her sister's like those of a child which has repeated its lesson, and looks to its teacher to see if it has done well.
Magdalen kissed her on the eyes.
"I have said everything, haven't I ?" "Everything." "I wish I was dead." Magdalen had no voice to answer with.
The Bishop came back, and sat down opposite them.
"Fay," he said, "as long as you live you will be thankful that you came to me to-day, that you were willing to make atonement by this great act of reparation.

The comfort of that remembrance will sink deep into your troubled heart, and will heal its wounds.

But the sacrifice is not to be exacted of you.

I had to ask if you were willing to make it.

But there is no longer any necessity for you to make it.