'Do you?'
'I know some of them, but I am pledged not to speak of them to any one--not even to you. One thing happened to him--never hint, for my sake, Jessie, that you even suspect it--one thing happened to him so terrible and so dreadful that it is no wonder he is hard and cold and morose. Many and many a time mother has entreated me to be kind and charitable in my thoughts towards him, and instead of doing so I have repaid all his kindness by the basest of ingratitude.'
'How have you done that, Chris?'
'By saying anything to you to cause you to dislike him. Ah, you may shake your head, but it is so, Jessie. If he were in my place, and I in his, he would come to me and ask me to forgive him; but I haven't the courage and fearless heart that he has, and I shouldn't know how to do it without giving him pain.'
I was really very remorseful, and sincerely so; but Jessie said nothing to comfort me.
'Have I had no reason of my own, until the last few days, to dislike him? Has he behaved quite kindly to me? Chris, is it possible that I am wrong in nearly everything that I have done? How many times have I tried to conciliate him, and how many times has he answered me with unkind words! There is some reason for it--there is some reason for it.'
'And yet remember, Jessie,' I said, without thinking, 'that he has given you a home, as he gave one to us, never asking for a return--never expecting one.'
Her face turned scarlet.
'Would he have said that?' she asked, and left me without another word.