"Do you not think that the surface of a mirror sometimes gets scratched, and cannot reflect back the same perfect image it should?"
Hugh shook his head. "Mother, I shall be late," he said, turning the handle of the door, and wishing to escape.
She smiled archly. "Next week there will be no mother to run away from, so listen, Hugh. Can't you invent some remedy for that tongue of yours?"
"I wasn't doing a bit of harm, mother, then."
"But if you could you would be 'able to bridle the whole body.' Think of that, Hugh! Can you not make up your mind to try?"
"All right, mother, I'll see about it."
"Not in your own strength though, dear."
He nodded, and seeing that he was let off, he darted through the door and was gone in a moment.
Mrs. Headley turned back with a momentary look of pain, then, as if those words were whispered in her ear she heard:
"In the morning sow thy seed, and in the evening withhold not thine hand; for thou knowest not whether shall prosper, either this or that, or whether they both shall be alike good." And at that word she went into the dining-room with a smile on her face, and seated herself at her preparations with peace in her heart.