"Are you ready to go down now, Zoe?" he asked in a freezing tone.

"Yes," she answered, turning to follow him as he led the way to the door.

There seemed to be a tacit understanding between them that their disagreements and coldness toward each other were to be concealed from all the rest of the world; in the old happy days they had always gone down together to the drawing-room or the tea-table, therefore would do so still.

Also, they studiously guarded their words and looks in the presence of any third person.

Yet Elsie, the tender mother, with eyes sharpened by affection, had already perceived that all was not right. She had noted Zoe's disturbed look when Edward seemed specially interested in Miss Deane's talk or Miss Fleming's music, and had silently determined not to ask them to prolong their stay at Ion.

The supper-bell rang as Edward and Zoe descended the stairs together, and they obeyed its summons without going into the drawing-room.

Violet's place at the table was vacant as well as that of Max, and Lulu and Gracie bore the traces of tears about their eyes.

These things reminded Zoe of Max's trouble, forgotten for a time in her own, and she thought pityingly of him in his imprisonment, wondered if he would be put upon prison fare, and determined to find out, and if he were, to try to procure him something better.

She made an errand to her own rooms soon after leaving the table, went to his door and knocked softly.

"Who's there?" he asked in a voice half choked with sobs.

"It is I, Maxie," she said in an undertone at the keyhole, "Zoe, you know.

I want to say I'm ever so sorry for you, and always ready to do anything I can to help you."

"Thank you," he said, "but I mustn't see anybody, so can't open the door; and, indeed," with a heavy sob, "I'm not fit company for you or any of the rest."

"Yes, you are, you're as good as I am. But why can't you open the door?

are you locked in?"

"No; but--papa said I--I must stay by myself for a week if--if I did what I have done to-day. So please don't stay any longer, though it was ever so good in you to come."

"Good-by, then," and she moved away.

CHAPTER XIX.

"High minds of native pride and force Most deeply feel thy pangs, remorse!

Fear of their scourge mean villains have; Thou art the torture of the brave."

--Scott.

Max sat before his writing-table, his folded arms upon it, and his face hidden upon them. He was in sore distress of mind. How he had fallen before temptation! into what depths of disgrace and sin! sin that in olden times would have been punished with death, even as the horrible crime of murder, and that must still be as hateful as ever in the sight of an unchangeable G.o.d.

And not only that sin, of which he had thought he had so truly and deeply repented, but another which he had always been taught was a very low and degrading vice. Oh, could there be forgiveness for him?

And how would his dear honored father feel when the sad story should reach his ears? would it indeed break his heart as Grandpa Dinsmore had said?

The boy's own heart was overwhelmed with grief, dismay, and remorse as he asked himself these torturing questions.

The door opened, but so softly that the sound was lost in his bitter sobbing, then a hand rested lightly, tenderly upon his bowed head, and a gentle, pitying voice said, "My poor, dear boy, my heart bleeds for you."

"O Grandma Elsie!" he burst out, "can you say that to such a wicked fellow as I am?"

"Did not Jesus weep with compa.s.sion over the sinners of Jerusalem, many of whom were even then plotting His death? And, Maxie, He pities you in your fallen estate, and is ready to forgive you the moment you turn to Him with grief and hatred of your sin and an earnest desire to forsake it, and to give yourself to His service."

"Oh, I do, I do hate it!" he cried out with vehemence. "I didn't mean ever to swear any more, and I feel as if I'd rather cut off my right hand than to do it again! But oh, how can I ask Him to forgive me, when He did once, and I've gone and done the same wicked thing again, just as if I hadn't been really sorry at all, though I was sure I was! Grandma Elsie, what shall I do?"

"'Let the wicked forsake his way, and the unrighteous man his thoughts; let him return unto the Lord, and He will have mercy upon him, and to our G.o.d, for He will abundantly pardon.'

"'He is the Lord, the Lord G.o.d, merciful and gracious, long-suffering and abundant in goodness and truth, keeping mercy for thousands, forgiving iniquity and transgression and sin.'

"'His name is Jesus, for He shall save His people from their sins.' He says, 'Him that cometh unto me, I will in no wise cast out.' 'O Israel, thou hast destroyed thyself; but in me is thine help.'

"'Though your sins be as scarlet, they shall be as white as snow; though they be red like crimson, they shall be as wool.'

"'I, even I, am He that blotteth out thy transgressions for my own sake, and will not remember thy sins.'"

"Oh, He is very good to say that!" sobbed the penitent boy. "But won't you ask Him to forgive me, Grandma Elsie?"

"Yes, Max, but you must pray, too, for yourself; confess your sins to Him, and ask Him to blot them out and remember them no more against you, because Jesus has suffered their penalty in your stead. Shall we kneel down now and ask Him?"

She stayed with him some time longer, talking in tender, motherly fashion; not extenuating his guilt, but speaking of the blood that cleanseth from all sin, the love and tender compa.s.sion of Jesus, His willingness and ability to save them to the uttermost that come unto G.o.d by Him.

Warning him, too, of the danger from evil a.s.sociates and from indulgence in the vice of gambling.

Then she told him he was not too young to begin to lead a Christian life, and urged him to do so without a moment's delay.

"I think I do want to be a Christian, Grandma Elsie," he said, "if I only knew just how."

"It is to leave the service of Satan for that of the Lord Jesus Christ,"

she said. "It is to give yourself body and soul, at once and forever, to Jesus, trusting in Him alone for salvation from sin and eternal death.

"'Believe on the Lord Jesus Christ, and thou shalt be saved,' 'Look unto me and be ye saved, all the ends of the earth.'

"Just take the first step, and He will help you on all the way, one step at a time, till you reach the gates of the celestial city. 'This G.o.d is our G.o.d forever and ever, He will be our guide even unto death.'

"Just speak to the Lord Jesus, dear Max, as if you could see Him standing before you while you knelt at His feet; say to Him as the leper did, 'Lord, if thou wilt, thou canst make me clean.' Tell Him how full you are of the dreadful leprosy of sin, how unable to heal yourself, and beseech Him to do the work for you, to wash you and make you clean and cover you with the robe of His righteousness; give yourself to Him, asking Him to accept the worthless gift and make you entirely and forever His own."

She rose to leave him.

"Oh, do stay a little longer!" he pleaded, clinging to her hand. "Tell me, do you think Mamma Vi will ever love me any more? that she will ever kiss me again?" he sobbed.

"I am sure she will, Max," Elsie answered in moved tones; "she has not ceased to love you, and I think will come and speak a word to you now, if you wish it."

"Oh, so much! only--only I'm dreadfully ashamed to look her in the face.

And--O Grandma Elsie, do you think it will break my father's heart when he hears it all?"

"It will make him very sad indeed, I have no doubt, Max," she answered, gently, "but if he hears, too, that you have truly repented and given your heart to G.o.d, he cannot fail to be greatly comforted. Tell him the whole truth, my dear boy, don't try to conceal anything from him."

"It's what I mean to do, Grandma Elsie," he said with a heavy sigh, "though I'd rather take the worst kind of a flogging. And that's what I'd get if he was here, for he told me so."