You know, my darling, that it would be as much our pleasure as our
duty to watch over the development of your moral and spiritual nature,
but alas! you will not let us see your moral and spiritual nature. At
times we are almost inclined to doubt whether you have a moral and
spiritual nature at all. Of your inner life, my dear, we know nothing
beyond such scraps as we can glean in spite of you, from little things
which escape you almost before you know that you have said them."
The boy winced at this. It made him feel hot and uncomfortable all over.
He knew well how careful he ought to be, and yet, do what he could, from
time to time his forgetfulness of the part betrayed him into unreserve.
His mother saw that he winced, and enjoyed the scratch she had given him.
Had she felt less confident of victory she had better have foregone the
pleasure of touching as it were the eyes at the end of the snail's horns
in order to enjoy seeing the snail draw them in again--but she knew that
when she had got him well down into the sofa, and held his hand, she had
the enemy almost absolutely at her mercy, and could do pretty much what
she liked.
"Papa does not feel," she continued, "that you love him with that fulness
and unreserve which would prompt you to have no concealment from him, and
to tell him everything freely and fearlessly as your most loving earthly
friend next only to your Heavenly Father.
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