“But how surely our sin finds us out! how one spot on our souls, not washed clean by repentance, spreads itself and poisons the good in us: and one step taken in the wrong path leads to another and another, till we are sinking hopelessly in the mire of mistakes and sin, and lose time and strength in struggling back to the broad, clean way, if indeed the mire be not too deep for our force, and we remain there ever going deeper and deeper.
“Remember, dear children, to pluck out, by the grace of Jesus, every root of sin and keep a clear conscience; don’t let any stain rest there, or it blackens the whole. And then, think, is the pain, the embarrassment of confession, equal to the fear of being found out, the depression, the stings of conscience which last so long?
“Mr. Percy remained all that day, and I had the satisfaction of hearing all about papa. If I had but had patience to wait. I was angry with Cora, for having been the cause of my discomfort; I avoided her, feeling guilty; and as for her, she moped alone almost the whole day.
“After a while, grandmamma called me to her room and told me my mother’s story—my poor, dear, young mother! She could not tell it without many tears, neither could I listen unmoved, and it seemed to me that I had lived a life-time in hearing it.
“My father was a lieutenant in the army. He and my mother were very young when they met each other, and they became much attached. There was so much opposition to their marriage, for many reasons—one, their youth, another, my father’s profession—that at last, unhappily, they disobeyed their parents and displeased their friends by marrying secretly.
“Soon after, papa was ordered with his regiment to Florida, to fight the Indians, and my delicate young mother accompanied him. Her friends had never forgiven her, never seen her; and grandmamma wept when she told me what she fancied must have been my mother’s grief at leaving her home without a word of tenderness for those whom she had loved so dearly. But she went, and months passed without any tidings from her.
“At last there came a letter, telling of my birth, and then they longed to see her again. The yearning was so sore that grandmamma would have gone herself, had it been possible. That being out of the question, Aunt Millicent, her twin sister, whose light-heartedness had left her when my mother went away, determined to go. They had friends in Florida, and she could make her home with them; so it was arranged.
“In the mean time my mother fancied that but one thing was wanting to her perfect happiness. She lived in garrison, and was the light of the old colonel’s eyes, as well as of her husband’s. Gay and simple-hearted, full of childish spirits and happiness, they could think but little of their hardships where her bright, fair face appeared.
“At last the tidings that the home hearts had melted for her, that her dearest sister was on her way to meet her, came to her, being the one thing she craved to make life beautiful to her. Aunt Millicent was to travel with a party bringing supplies and reinforcements to the garrison, thinking it the safer plan.
“A party was sent out to meet them, on the day upon which they were expected. My mother, in the gaiety of her heart, begged to be of the company; and as the Indians had been quiet for some time, my father allowed her to go. He could not accompany her, being officer of the day, and saw her mount her horse and ride off laughing in the sunshine without a thought of the grief which was to fall upon him like a thunder-bolt before night.