Miss Kathleen took a wonderful fancy to me. She used to find me out wherever I was, and bring me a flower from her garden, or a book from her bookcase, or else she'd come and sit down for a chat, which I liked best of all. She seemed to have got it into her head that I was in trouble and that she had to comfort me, and she was always trying one way and another. "Mother is so busy," she'd say. "I do like to help her." But I think she got fond of me too.
There wasn't any difficulties made by Mrs. Withers. She just let things go on so. But one day, all of a sudden, she took me by surprise, speaking when she and I were alone together. I couldn't think whatever was coming, but soon I understood.
She began about the liking Miss Kathleen showed to be with me, and how she was very glad Miss Kathleen should—only—and there she stopped, and began afresh. Miss Kathleen was such a good truthful child always, she said, and so simple, and with no nonsense in her head. Then there came another stop.
"Kitty," says she, "you have not always been truthful, and you have had a great deal of nonsense in your head. I know so much, you see. Can I depend upon you with my little girl?" says she. "You have had a sharp lesson, and I think you cannot be the same after it that you were before. If I let the child be in and out with you as much as she likes, can I be sure that she will gain no harm—will learn no deceit nor folly from you?" says she.
It did go to my heart to think I wasn't counted fit to be trusted with that child; and yet what else was to be expected, after the way I'd let myself be drawn into evil?
I don't half know what I said, except that I had had a sharp lesson, and I would be very very careful, and never speak a word to Miss Kathleen which I wouldn't wish her mother to hear.
"Yes, that will be right—that will do," said she.
Then I gave way and cried bitterly, and how good, to be sure, she was! She took one seat, and made me take another, and she said such comforting words.
Somehow I hadn't felt till then so fully how I had sinned against God first and most of all, and how first and most of all I needed His forgiveness.
I had wronged my father, and before he died he had forgiven me; and I had wronged my mother, and she wasn't in a state to know how to pardon. But far, far beyond these I had wronged my Father in Heaven, and that had been only a second sort of thought with me.