The hour of seven
where look for aid to guard her from the fate she had woven for herself ? Where , in her childish faults , had her mother taught her to seek for assistance and forgiveness ? Dare she address her Maker , the God whom , in those months of infatuated blindness , she had deserted ; Him , whom her deception towards her parents had offended , for she had trampled on His holy laws , she had honoured them not ? The hour of seven chimed ; three hours more , and her fate was irrevocably sealed -- the God of her youth profaned ; for could she ever address Him again when the wife of Alphingham ? from whose lips no word of religion ever came , whose most simple action had lately evinced contempt for its forms and restrictions . The beloved guardians of her infant years , the tender friends of her youth insulted , lowered by her conduct in the estimation of the world , liable to reproach ; their very devotion for so many years to their children condemned , ridiculed . An inseparable bar placed between her and the hand-in-hand companions of her youth ; never again should she kneel with them around their parents , and with them share the fond impressive blessing .