And amid the most torturing horror and disgust of that great sin, rose up in her the divinest love for the sinner; she felt--strange paradox--that she had never loved her mother as she did at that moment.
"Oh, that it had been I who had done it, and not she!" And her mother's sin was to her her own sin, her mother's shame her shame, till all sense of her mother's guilt vanished in the light of her divine love.

"Oh, that I could take her up tenderly, tell her that all is forgiven and forgotten by man and God!--serve her as I have never served her yet!-- nurse her to sleep on my bosom, and then go forth and bear her punishment, even if need be on the gallows-tree!" And there she stood, in a silent agony of tender pity, drinking her portion of the cup of Him who bore the sins of all the world.
Silently she stood; and silently she turned to go, to go home and pray for guidance in that dark labyrinth of confused duties.

Her mother heard the rustle; looked up; and sprang to her feet with a scream, dropping gold pieces on the ground.
Her first impulse was wild terror.

She was discovered; by whom, she knew not.

She clasped her evil treasure to her bosom, and thrusting Grace against the rock, fled wildly out.
"Mother! Mother!" shrieked Grace, rushing after her.