“I hope not too, Harriet,” said Mr. Wharton, “but God has now mercifully spared your little boy’s life, and it rests with you whether he shall be trained for His service or not.”
Then calling for Agnes and Lewie, Mr. Wharton kissed them for good-bye, telling Agnes that he would bring Emily over the next day.
Mrs. Elwyn looked infinitely relieved when Mr. Wharton drove off, and returned to her novel with as much interest as ever, and in the very exciting scene into which her heroine was now introduced, she soon forgot the unpleasant nature of Mr. Wharton’s “lecture,” as she called it.
Agnes was contriving in her mind all the morning, how she should present the needle-case to her mother, and wondering how it would be received. It was such a great affair to her, and had cost her so much time and labor, that she was quite sure it must be an acceptable gift, and yet natural timidity in approaching her mother, made her shrink from presenting it, and every time she thought of it her heart beat in her very throat.
At length the novel was finished and thrown aside, and Mrs. Elwyn sat with her feet on the low fender gazing abstractedly into the fire. Now was the time Agnes thought, and approaching her gently, she said:
“Mamma, here is a needle-case I made for you, all myself, for a Christmas present.”
The words could not have been heard by Mrs. Elwyn, she only knew that a voice not Lewie’s interrupted her in her reverie.
“Hush! hush! child,” she said, waving her hand impatiently towards Agnes, “be quiet! don’t disturb me!”
Oh, what a grieved and disappointed little heart that, as Agnes turned away with the tears in her eyes, and a lump in her throat.
The next voice that disturbed the young widow was one to which she always gave attention: