This flippant, but after all not unreasonable speech, seemed to silence the man; and I took the opportunity of running up-stairs and bringing down my Milton. The old man was speaking as I re-entered.
"And you know, my dear madam, Mr. Milton was a true converted man, and a
Puritan."
"He was Oliver Cromwell's secretary," I added.
"Did he teach you to disobey your mother?" asked my mother.
I did not answer; and the old man, after turning over a few leaves, as if he knew the book well, looked up.
"I think, madam, you might let the youth keep these books, if he will promise, as I am sure he will, to see no more of Mr. Mackaye."
I was ready to burst out crying, but I made up my mind and answered,
"I must see him once again, or he will think me so ungrateful. He is the best friend that I ever had, except you, mother. Besides, I do not know if he will lend me any, after this."
My mother looked at the old minister, and then gave a sullen assent.
"Promise me only to see him once—but I cannot trust you. You have deceived me once, Alton, and you may again!"