But perhaps some one, for my mother's sake--oh! my
dear, dear mother!--do you know where and what I am?" she cried
out, sobbing afresh.
Mr. Benson's heart was very sore, though he spoke
authoritatively, and almost sternly--
"Ruth! you must be still and quiet. I cannot have this. I want
you to listen to me. Your thought of Helmsby would be a good one,
if it was right for you to leave Eccleston; but I do not think it
is. I am certain of this, that it would be a great sin in you to
separate yourself from Leonard. You have no right to sever the
tie by which God has bound you together."
"But if I am here they will all know and remember the shame of
his birth; and if I go away they may forget----"
"And they may not. And if you go away, he may be unhappy or ill;
and you, who above all others have--and have from God--remember
that, Ruth!--the power to comfort him, the tender patience to
nurse him, have left him to the care of strangers. Yes; I know!
But we ourselves are as strangers, dearly as we love him,
compared to a mother. He may turn to sin, and want the long
forbearance, the serene authority of a parent and where are you?
No dread of shame, either for yourself, or even for him, can ever
make it right for you to shake off your responsibility." All this
time he was watching her narrowly, and saw her slowly yield
herself up to the force of what he was saying.
"Besides, Ruth," he continued, "we have gone on falsely,
hitherto.
Pages:
452
453
454
455
456
457
458
459
460
461
462
463
464
465
466
467
468
469
470
471
472
473
474
475
476