Little by little hope gained, and truth seemed more possible. And by and by a plan grew in her mind: she would get Doctor Lavendar to help her to tell Johnny the truth, and then, supported by religion (as she thought of it), she would tell her son that it was his duty to live with her;—"nobody will know why! And he can't say 'no,' if Doctor Lavendar says, 'honor thy father and thy mother'!" That Doctor Lavendar would say this, she had no doubt whatever, for was he not a minister, and ministers always counseled people to obey the Commandments. "But when I get him here, with Johnny, we must be by ourselves," she thought; "I won't speak before her!"
So that was why Miss Lydia was not invited to supper when Johnny was—Johnny and Doctor Lavendar! Mary Robertson was so tense all that September day when her two guests were expected that her husband noticed it.
"You're not well, Mary?" he said.
"Oh yes, yes!" she said—she was pacing up and down, up and down, like a caged creature. "Carl, Doctor Lavendar is coming this evening."
"My dear, I think that is about the tenth time you have mentioned it! I should not call the old gentleman a very exciting guest."
"And Johnny is coming."
"Well, what of it? I hope Doctor Lavendar won't ask him to say his catechism!"
As it happened, Johnny came first, and his mother was so eager to see him and touch him that, hearing his step, she ran to help him off with his coat—to his great embarrassment; then she came into the library clinging to his arm. Father and son greeted each other with, "Hello, youngster!" and, "Hello, sir!" and Johnny added that it was beginning to rain like blazes.
"I sent the carriage for Doctor Lavendar," Mrs. Robertson said.
"He coming?" Johnny asked.