"Did I cry?" asked Harty.
"No; you thought yourself too much of a man for that, even then; and how fondly, proudly, mamma looked at you, as you closed your little lips and stood up without a sound, though there was a bright red mark on your forehead where you had struck it."
It seemed strange to Harty that he was willing to sit still and listen to a girl; yet he found a pleasure in being with Rosa different from any he had ever felt. He had always been quite indifferent as to what Lucy thought of him, but that Rosa should not be pleased with him was a very unpleasant idea. As a child he had tenderly loved his mother; and when she was taken from him, a blank had been left in his heart which had never been filled. Now half the charm of Rosa's society consisted in her being able to speak of that mother, and revive his now fading remembrance of her.
"Come," said Rosa, "let us say our Catechism together: I will ask the questions, and we will all repeat the answers."
Lucy was delighted at the idea, and readily joined her voice with Rosa's. She found it difficult to keep with her sister in reciting, as Rosa repeated her answers slowly, as if she really meant what she was saying. As she pronounced the words, "a member of Christ, a child of God," she looked meaningly at Lucy; and then it flashed through the little girl's mind, that she was indeed the child of God, as her sister had said; His child, not only because He had made her, but because she had been made His by Baptism; and again she resolved to be His "loving, obedient child."
At first Harty did not join in saying the Catechism; he had for some time given up the practice as a thing only for such children as Lucy; but when he saw that Rosa did not think it beneath her, as they came to the Apostles' Creed his voice mingled with the others. Rosa took no notice of it save that she placed her hand in his, and they went on. In some of the long answers Lucy faltered, and Harty halted entirely; but Rosa smoothly continued until they could again join her. As Harty repeated the once familiar words, he recalled the time when he had learned them from that mother who was now a saint in Paradise. With those familiar words returned the precious lessons of love and holiness which she had spoken, but which he had forgotten amid the sport and recklessness of boyhood.
When they had finished, he was quite softened, and his voice was very gentle as he replied to Rosa's proposal to sing, "Yes, if I know anything you do."
Lucy was fond of music, but she could not sing: she laid her head on her sister's lap, and listened to the simple hymns with a feeling of peace and happiness. Another and another hymn was sung, until, at last, the clock struck nine.
"Nine o'clock," said Harty, "and Lucy not in bed! what would Mrs. Maxwell say to that?"
Lucy had been fast asleep, and was not a little frightened when she heard it was so late. She took a candle immediately, kissed her sister and wished her good night. Oh! what pleasure it gave her when Harty said, "Me, too, if you please," and really looked fondly in her face.