'What was it, Lance?'
'He ought not to touch a Bible—he sha'n't have mine,' said Lance resentfully.
'Was he doing anything wrong with it?'
'Oh no! But he ought not to have it before he is christened, and I would have read to him.'
Mr. Audley knew what Lance's reading was, and smiled. 'Was that all, Lance? I like your guardianship of the Bible, my boy; but it was not given only to those who are Christians already, or how could any one learn?'
'He sha'n't touch mine, though,' said Lance, with an odd sturdiness; stumping upstairs with his treasure, a little brown sixpenny S. P. C. K. book, but in which his father had written his name on his last birth-day but one.
Mr. Audley only waited to take down a New Testament, and present himself at Fernando's bedside, observing gladly that there was much more wistfulness than offence about his expression.
'It was a scruple on the young man's part,' said Mr. Audley, smiling, though full of anxiety; 'he meant no unkindness.'
'I know he did not,' said Fernando quietly, but gazing at the purple book in the clergyman's hands.
'Did you want this?' said Mr. Audley; 'or can I find anything in it for you?'