away."
"I'll tell you, darling, what you can do,"—ma saw she was really
troubled and conscience-stricken,—"you can kneel down and tell God
yourself that you are sorry. He will forgive you."
She knelt for some time by her little chair, whispering her prayer in
God's ear. Since that she has never mentioned Bridget's name.
She must have suffered all that time from the pricks of her tender
conscience. I'm sure I saw tears in Mr. Angus's eyes when ma told him