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68 flash; and then she set herself, with the dogged practicality inherited from her father, to consider the matter, point by point, as it would probably develop; and not so much from her own point of view as from her father's, whom she loved far better than herself, and had of late unconsciously taken under the protection of her own young strength and resolute nature: for the years which sharpened Deborah's tongue, and exasperated her temper, seemed stealing a little from the stone and iron of her husband's resistance; and a weary look was growing in his eyes, and a harassed wrinkle upon his brow, that made Molly's heart ache sorely when she noted them.

And in this matter she knew but too well that she herself should not be the only or even the chief sufferer; and here was the keenest grief, yet never a shadow of wavering. Did Anne Askew waver when she saw the rack, think you? or Jeanne d'Arc when she came to her funeral pyre? And this Molly was of their stuff, and could not shrink, though dearer than her own flesh was to become the martyr.

But it was with a heavy sigh that she at last drew her hand across her brow, and said,—

"Oh, poor, poor father! If only I could take it all, and all at once, and never see your dear eyes look so tired again! But it must go on. Yes"—

She sank into a chair, and sat motionless for a long hour; while the fire burned low upon the hearth, and the sparkle died out of the burnished pewter platters, and the wheel, but now so joyous, stood mute and motionless, and the cat ceased her purring, and moved