"Lily, you forget how short the time has been as yet."
"I have thought it very long; but the truth is, mamma, that this non-fostering of memories, as you call it, has not been the real cause of our silence. We have not spoken of Mr. Crosbie because we have not thought alike about him. Had you spoken you would have spoken with anger, and I could not endure to hear him abused. That has been it."
"Partly so, Lily."
"Now you must talk of him, and you must not abuse him. We must talk of him, because something must be done about his letter. Even if it be left unanswered, it cannot be so left without discussion. And yet you must say no evil of him."
"Am I to think that he behaved well?"
"No, mamma; you are not to think that; but you are to look upon his fault as a fault that has been forgiven."
"It cannot be forgotten, dear."
"But, mamma, when you go to heaven—"
"My dear!"
"But you will go to heaven, mamma, and why should I not speak of it? You will go to heaven, and yet I suppose you have been very wicked, because we are all very wicked. But you won't be told of your wickedness there. You won't be hated there, because you were this or that when you were here."