“Yes, indeed,” assented Hughie, eagerly, “and who wouldn't be done with them?”
But the old man shook his head sadly.
“If that were always true a man would soon be rid of his evil heart. But,” he continued, as if eager to turn the conversation, “you will be talking with my woman about it. She's a wonderful wise woman, yon.”
Somehow the opportunity came to Hughie to take the old man's advice. On Saturday evening, just before leaving for home, he found himself alone with Mrs. Finch sitting beside the open window, watching the sun go down behind the trees.
“What a splendid sunset!” he cried. He was ever sensitive to the majestic drama of nature.
“Ay,” said Mrs. Finch, “the clouds and the sun make wonderful beauty together, but without the sun the clouds are ugly things.”
Hughie quickly took her meaning.
“They are not pleasant,” he said.
“No, not pleasant,” she replied, “but with the sunlight upon them they are wonderful.”
Hughie was silent for some moments, and then suddenly burst out, “Mrs. Finch, does God forget sins, and will he keep them hid, from people, I mean?”