"I do not know what you mean, mamma," exclaimed Ernest anxiously and more
or less hurriedly. His mother construed his manner into indignation at
being suspected, and being rather frightened herself she turned tail and
scuttled off as fast as her tongue could carry her.
"Oh!" she said, "I see by your tone that you are innocent! Oh! oh! how I
thank my heavenly Father for this; may He for His dear Son's sake keep
you always pure. Your father, my dear"--(here she spoke hurriedly but
gave him a searching look) "was as pure as a spotless angel when he came
to me. Like him, always be self-denying, truly truthful both in word and
deed, never forgetful whose son and grandson you are, nor of the name we
gave you, of the sacred stream in whose waters your sins were washed out
of you through the blood and blessing of Christ," etc.
But Ernest cut this--I will not say short--but a great deal shorter than
it would have been if Christina had had her say out, by extricating
himself from his mamma's embrace and showing a clean pair of heels. As
he got near the purlieus of the kitchen (where he was more at ease) he
heard his father calling for his mother, and again his guilty conscience
rose against him.
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