It had been Sidney and Mattie—as between brother and sister—for a long time now.
"Will your father admire the intrusion?" asked Sid, drily.
"Perhaps he is doing good," said Mattie, who regarded matters akin to this more seriously than the blind man; "I'll wait a while."
And all this time Maurice was praying for help. It had not been a very pleasant idea, that of facing his cousin for the first time; but now the thought occurred to him that he would rather face the very worst—even that obnoxious being, of whom the preacher earnestly warned him—than hear this man inveigh against his sins any more.
Mattie quietly entered the shop. The spell was broken; Mr. Gray paused with his right arm above his head—he was just coming down with another bang on the counter—and Maurice leaped off his stool, to which he had been transfixed, and shook hands violently with Mattie in his bewilderment.
"He will see me, Miss Gray?"
"Yes. If you wish it."
"Thank you—thank you! Is he in the parlour?"
"Yes."
"And so be warned, young man—there is no excuse left you—not one, now. You have been warned of all the evils which a guilty life incurs upon those who go on their way defiantly!"