It was the decision--the pivot, on which the fate
of years moved; and he turned it the wrong way. But it was not
for his own sake. For himself, he was brave enough to tell the
truth; for the little helpless baby, about to enter a cruel,
biting world, he was tempted to evade the difficulty. He forgot
what he had just said, of the discipline and the penance to the
mother consisting in strengthening her child to meet, trustfully
and bravely, the consequences of her own weakness. He remembered
more clearly the wild fierceness, the Cain-like look, of Thomas
Wilkins, as the obnoxious word in the baptismal registry told him
that he must go forth branded into the world, with his hand
against every man's, and every man's against him.
"How could it be managed, Faith?"
"Nay, I must know much more, which she alone can tell us, before
I can see how it is to be managed. It is certainly the best
plan."
"Perhaps it is," said her brother thoughtfully, but no longer
clearly or decidedly; and so the conversation dropped.
Ruth moved the bed-curtain aside, in her soft manner, when Miss
Benson re-entered the room; she did not speak, but she looked at
her as if she wished her to come near. Miss Benson went and stood
by her. Ruth took her hand in hers and kissed it; as if fatigued
even by this slight movement, she fell asleep. Miss Benson took
up her work, and thought over her brother's speeches.
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