Looking deep into her eyes, he said, "Mother, you never knew me to deceive you. You must trust me now more than ever. But I will tell you more than I shall say to any other human being. Mother, there is a mistake. Everything points to me, I know. I'm under this cloud because I would not be untrue to a confidence. I've just left the church, where I promised God to carry this cross for Him. I was thinking of you when I made that offering. Now, Mother, won't you be good and not worry any more?"
For an answer she embraced him, and taking him by the hand, she led the way to the little oratory. They knelt down before the Sacred Heart, and still holding his hand in hers, she said, "Dear Sacred Heart, I add my offering to my boy's. Do thou keep him ever in Thy love and Thy Grace. Amen."
"It's all right now, mother. The cross has lost its weight."
"Yes, dear," she answered, "we won't mind anything now. I'll tell your father that I know things are all right, so he won't be embarrassed by any gossip he hears."
"Mother, I'd rather you wouldn't say anything to father. He has enough to worry him without our cares."
"Yes, dear, things don't always run smoothly with him, yet he spares us his worries. I'll do as you say, unless something makes me see it's best to tell him."
(II)
After lunch, Frank went out to the football field. There was to be heavy practice that afternoon for the big game of the year. On his way, he met Dick and Ned, headed in the same direction.
"O Frank," exclaimed Ned, "you're being terribly 'roasted' all over the parish. Somehow the thing is getting bigger and bigger, and you're made out worse and worse."
"Can't help people talking, son," was Frank's reply.