n his daily lessons, was going through the ground-work, and those
words of mighty signification conveyed meanings to the father, which the
innocent child had as yet no need to unfold. The long silent hours gave
time for thought, and often when the watchers deemed that the stifled
groan or restless movement arose from pain or oppression, it was in fact
drawn forth by the weight on his mind.

So it had gone on; while mingled feelings of shame, reserve, and
reluctance to show himself in a new light, kept his lips closed, and
days and weeks passed before he brought himself to speak the word even
to his wife. When it was spoken, her silent intense gladness was at
once a reward and a rebuke. Though she scarcely spoke, he knew her well
enough to perceive more perfect joy than even at the moment when she
first made him smile on their first-born son.

He raised his eyes to meet that look again, when, after his interview
with the clergyman, she came back to join in fixing the hour.
Contrition, dread, shame, penitence, all seemed to be soothed, and yet
rendered deeper, by meeting those eyes of serene and perfect content and
thankfulness.

That evening Johnnie was turning over prints by his side.

'There is the Good Shepherd, papa. Do you see the poor sheep, who
wandered out of the fold, away into the wilderness among the rocks and
deserts--that is doing wrong, you know, papa. And it lost its way, and
the wolf was watching to tear it to pieces, that is Satan; but the Good
Shepherd,' and the child bent his head reverently, 'He went after it.
Mamma said that means that He touches our hearts and makes us sorry, and
it looked up and was ready--as we pray to be made good again. So then
He laid it on His shoulders, and carried it safe home to be happy in
the fold again. Is He not very good, papa? And only think! There is joy
among the Holy Angels in Heaven when one sinner grieves and comes back.'

Johnnie was wont to go on in this dreamy way without expecting an
answer; but he was startled to see his father's face hidden by the
shadowy fingers that propped his forehead.

'Has it made your head ache, papa? Must I go away?'

'Say that again, Johnnie.'

'I cannot say it quite right,' answered the boy; 'I only know it says
that the Angels in Heaven rejoice and are glad over one sinner that
repenteth. I thought about it that night after I had been naughty.'

'You, Johnnie?' Arthur could hardly believe that child capable of a
fault.