"An actor!" Mrs. Travers' pale face flushed with crimson. "An actor! Ah, my dear son, one engaged in the devil's work cannot claim charity from Christians."
"I do not take your meaning, ma'am. An actor may suffer, and his child starve as well as other folk, and need help."
"I grieve for suffering, dear son, as you know; but——"
"But you condemn all actors wholesale. Nay, my sweet mother"—and Leslie changed his tone—"nay, my sweet mother, it is not you who steel your heart; it is the doctrine taught you in the fashionable chapel yonder of lords and ladies, who reserve for themselves the right to the kingdom of heaven."
"My son, do not speak thus; nor scoff at what you cannot yet understand. If prayers avail for your conversion, constant and persevering, mine will at last be heard."
"I thank you for your prayers, dear mother—they come from a true heart. And now to supper, and then to my violoncello. The Herschels are removing at once to this street—almost will their music be within ear-shot; and there will be great works in the garden, and the largest mirror in the kingdom will be cast. Who can tell what may be discovered? Now, mother, you do not see sin and wickedness in star-gazing, surely?"
Mrs. Travers shook her head.
"I would not care for myself to be too curious as to the secrets which God does not reveal."
Leslie stamped his foot impatiently, and then said:
"We cannot agree there, mother. Every gift of God is good; and if He has given the gift of mathematical precision, and earnestness in applying it for the better development of the grandest of all sciences, who shall dare to say the man who exercises that gift is wrong? For my own part, I feel uplifted in the presence of that great and good man—Mr. Herschel—and his wonderful sister."