"Tell her, through me, what she must do." "Let her own the truth," answered Julian, "without the base fear of discovery to drive her to it.

Let her do justice to the woman whom she has wronged, while that woman is still powerless to expose her.

Let her sacrifice everything that she has gained by the fraud to the sacred duty of atonement.

If she can do that--for conscience' sake, and for pity's sake--to her own prejudice, to her own shame, to her own loss--then her repentance has nobly revealed the noble nature that is in her; then she is a woman to be trusted, respected, beloved! If I saw the Pharisees and fanatics of this lower earth passing her by in contempt, I would hold out my hand to her before them all.

I would say to her in her solitude and her affliction, 'Rise, poor wounded heart! Beautiful, purified soul, God's angels rejoice over you! Take your place among the noblest of God's creatures!'" In those last sentences he unconsciously repeated the language in which he had spoken, years since, to his congregation in the chapel of the Refuge.