“Go to thy mother. Listen, Kitty,” and he spoke very low, “tell her, thou art sure and certain thy father does not object to her seeing her son, if it makes her happy–thou knowest my bark is a deal worse than my bite–say–thou believest I would like to see Edgar myself–nay, thou needest not say that–but say a few words just to please her; thou knowest what they should be better than I do,”–then, with a rather gruff “good-morning,” he went out of the room; and Kitty turned to her mother.
Mrs. Atheling was smiling, though there were indeed some remaining evidences of tears. “He went without bidding me ‘good-morning,’ Kitty. What did he say? Is he very angry?”
“Not at all angry. All put on, Mother. He loves Edgar quite as much as you do.”
“He can’t do that, Kitty. There is nothing like a mother’s love.”
“Except a father’s love. Don’t you remember, that God takes a father’s love to express His own great care for us? And when the Prodigal Son came home, Christ makes his father, not his mother, go to meet him.”
“That was because Christ knew children were sure and certain of their mother’s love and forgiveness. He wasn’t so sure of the fathers. So he gave the lesson to them; he knew that mothers did not need it. Mothers are always ready to forgive, Kitty; but there is nothing to forgive in Edgar.”
“Is he really coming to-day?”
“Listen to what he says, Kitty. ‘Darling Mother, I cannot live another day without seeing you. Let me come to-morrow at two o’clock, and put my arms round you, and kiss you, and talk to you for an hour. Ask father to let me come. London is not Atheling. If he counts his passionate words as forever binding between him and me, surely they are not binding between you and me. Let me see you anyway, Mother. Sweet, dear Mother! When father forgives the rest, he will forgive this also. Your loving son, Edgar.’ Now, Kitty, if Edgar was your son, what would you say?”
“I would say, Come at once, Edgar, and dearly welcome!”
“To be sure you would. So shall I. What is Miss Vyner writing about?”