'
'N-o--Mrs. Kendal knows all.'
'Did you ever do such a thing in your life?'
'You don't know what my father is.'
'Neither do you, Gilbert. Let that be the first token of sincerity.'
Without leaving space for another word, Mr. Ferrars went through the
conservatory into the garden, where, meeting the children, he took
the little one in his arms, and sent Maurice to fetch his mamma.
Albinia came down, looking so much heated and harassed, that he was
grieved to leave her.
'Oh, Maurice, I am sorry! You always come in for some catastrophe,'
she said, trying to smile. 'You have had a most forlorn morning.'
'Gilbert has been with me,' he said. 'He has told me all, my dear,
and I think it hopeful: I like him better than I ever did before.'
'Poor feather, the breath of your lips has blown him the other way,'
said Albinia, too unhappy for consolation.
'Well, it seems to me that you have done more for him than I ever
quite believed. I did not expect such sound, genuine religious
feeling.'
'He always had plenty of religious sentiment,' said Albinia, sadly.
'I have asked him to come to us next week. Will you tell Edmund so?'
'Yes. He will be thankful to you for taking him in hand. Poor boy,
I know how attractive his penitence is, but I have quite left off
building on it.'
Mr. Ferrars defended him no longer. He could not help being much
moved by the youth's self-abasement, but that might be only because
it was new to him, and he did not even try to recommend him to her
mercy; he knew her own heart might be trusted to relent, and it would
not hurt Gilbert in the end to be made to feel the full weight of his
offence.
Pages:
538
539
540
541
542
543
544
545
546
547
548
549
550
551
552
553
554
555
556
557
558
559
560
561
562