"Stop, mother," said he, playfully laying his hand over her mouth; "I can listen to no such language from you. When I was a boy you used to stop my confessions of wrong-doing with a kiss; how much more ought silence to be sufficient between us now."
He knelt by her side and pressed his lips to hers.
"Oh, my son, my son!" said the weeping woman, as she pushed back the hair above his forehead and looked into his eyes; "only give your mother time—you know it is so hard—so hard. I am trying, Hesden; and you must be very kind to me, very gentle. It will not be for long, but we must be alone—all alone—as we were before all these things came about. Only," she added sobbingly, "only little Hildreth is not here now."
"Believe me, mother," said he, and the tears fell upon the gentle face over which he bent, "I will do nothing to cause you pain. My opinions I cannot renounce, because I believe them right."
"I know, I know, my son," she said; "but it is so hard—so hard—to think that we must lose the place which we have always held in the esteem of—all those about us."
There was silence for a time, and then she continued, "Hetty thinks it is best—that—that she—should—not remain here longer at this time. She is perhaps right, my son. You must not blame her for anything that has occurred; indeed—indeed she is not at fault. In fact," she added, "she has done much toward showing me my duty. Of course it is hard for her, as it is for me, to be under obligations to—to—such a one as Miss Ainslie. It is very hard to believe that she could have done as she has without some—some unworthy motive."
"Mother!" said Hesden earnestly, raising his head and gazing reproachfully at her.
"Don't—don't, my son! I am trying—believe me, I am trying; but it is so hard. Why should she give up all this for our sakes?"
"Not for ours mother—not for ours alone; for her own as well."
"Oh, my son, what does she know of family pride?"