Yet as he listened, Dr. Fergusson pitied more than he condemned. He knew that the trouble in her life had made her bitterly rebellious against the One whom she considered had cruelly afflicted her. It had soured and embittered her whole nature, and her very silence and reserve had helped her to nurse her resentment in secret. The flame of anger and bitterness had burnt steadily all these years, eating away all that was good and wholesome in her nature, and Helen Gordon had given way too long to the evil powers in her soul to be ashamed of owning now her passionate feelings and motives.
For a moment there was silence, then the doctor spoke.
"Helen, I can hardly believe it is you that is speaking! If these are your sentiments, may God in His mercy take little Sunnie from you, before you have time to injure her soul!"
The mother sprang to her feet.
"You are cursing me, Leslie!"
"Far be it from me to do that, and yet I can almost feel for the first time in my life, the power and the force of the Master's words: 'But whoso shall offend one of these little ones which believe in Me, it were better for him that a millstone were hanged about his neck, and that he were drowned in the depth of the sea!'"
There was a dead silence for a minute. The passion died out of Mrs. Gordon's eyes. She resumed her seat, and Dr. Fergusson gently put his hand on her shoulder.
"Helen, your love for your child will save you from trying to ruin her."
Mrs. Gordon remained silent.
"You are a little unhinged by your anxiety; you do not really mean what you say."