deed," continued Milly, with some warmth; "and if you only knew
what he has suffered on your account--"
"Milly," cried Mrs Moss quickly, "is all that _I_ have suffered on
_his_ account to count for nothing?"
"Of course not, _dear_ mother. I don't mean that; you don't understand
me. I mean the reproaches that his own conscience has heaped upon his
head for what he has inadvertently done."
"Recklessly, child, not inadvertently. Besides, you know, his
conscience is not _himself_. People cannot avoid what conscience says
to them. Its remarks are no sign of humility or self-condemnation, one
proof of which is that wicked people would gladly get away from
conscience if they could, instead of agreeing with it, as they should,
and shaking hands with it, and saying, `we are all that you call us, and
more.'"
"Well, that is exactly what John has done," said Milly, with increasing,
warmth. "He has said all that, and more to me--"
"To _you_?" interrupted Mrs Moss; "yes, but you are not his conscience,
child!"
"Yes, I am, mother; at least, if I'm not, I am next thing to it, for he
says _everything_ to me!" returned Milly, with a laugh and a blush.
"And you have no idea how sorry, how ashamed, how self-condemned, how
overwhelmed he has been by all that has happened."
"Humph! I have been a good deal more overwhelmed than he has been,"
returned Mrs Moss. "However, make your mind easy, child, for during
the last week or two, in learning to love and esteem John Barret, I have
unwittingly been preparing the way to forgive and forget the cowardly
youth who ran me down in London. Now go and send Mr Jackman to me; I
have a great opinion of that young man's knowledge of medicine and
surgery, though he _is_ only an amateur. He will soon tell me whether I
have received any hurt that has rendered me incapable of feeling. And
at the same time you may convey to that coward, John, my entire
forgiveness."
Milly kissed her mother, of course, and hastened away to deliver her
double message.
After careful examination and much questioning, "Dr" Jackman pronounced
the little old lady to be entirely free from injury of any kind, save
the smashing of a comb in her back-hair, and gave it as his opinion that
she was as sound in wind and limb as before the accident, though there
had unquestionably been a considerable shock to the feelings, which,
however, seemed to have had the effect of improving rather than
deranging her intel
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