ence and of your insight and of your own good common sense, you would do it, or that you would suggest what it would be best to do in the case."
"I am afraid, Shiana," said the priest, "that you are doing yourself a great injustice. I have known you well for a long time. The poorest day you ever had, I never heard anyone lay a farthing's worth to your charge. The day you were most independent, no one ever said that you wronged a workman, or that you had his labour without paying for it. Poor or rich, I never heard anyone say that he saw you come home drunk, or involved in a quarrel, or forgathering with bad company. No act of theft or plunder can be laid to your charge. No litigation or disputing or quarrelling can be laid to your charge. As for the people who have money of yours, it would be difficult to count them. I have never yet heard that you were strict in asking it back from them. I have often heard that some of them were unworthy of much favour being bestowed upon them. I cannot make out—do you see?—what is the reason that it would be better for her to die than that you should marry her."
"Don't search into the thing any further, Father," said Shiana. "A man knows best himself where the shoe pinches him. I came to ask your advice in order to break this match. Break it, unless you want to set her burning in hell! You have been counting over my good qualities. They are very little to count. Whatever good I have done, it was with one single intention I did it. I did it for the Saviour's sake (not making a boast of it to God!). But what good is it for me, if I do this wrong now?"
"Shiana," said the priest, "I think I understand
