'They do. Sit down, Philip, and hear. I wanted to tell you about it. They know it. Poor Laura was so unhappy when you were ill, that mamma made it out from her.'
He obeyed the hand that invited him back to his seat, and turned his face earnestly towards her. He must let her be his comforter, though a moment before his mind would have revolted at troubling the newly-made widow with his love affairs. Amabel told him, as fully and clearly as she could, how the truth had come out, how gently Laura had been dealt with, how Charles had been trying to soften his father, and papa had not said one angry word to her.
'They forgive her. Oh, Amy, thanks indeed! You have taken away one of the heaviest burdens. I am glad, indeed, that she spoke first. For my own part, I see through all their kindness and consideration how they regard me.'
'They know how sorry you are, and that you wrote to tell all,' said Amabel. 'They forgive, indeed they do; but they cannot bear to speak about it just yet.'
'If you forgive, Amy,' said he, in a husky voice, 'I may hope for pardon from any.'
'Hush! don't say that. You have been so kind, all this time, and we have felt together so much, that no one could help forgetting anything that went before. Then you will write to me; and will you tell me how to direct to you?'
'You will write to me?' cried Philip, brightening for a moment with glad surprise. 'Oh, Amy, you will quite overpower me with your goodness!--The coals of fire,' he finished, sinking his voice, and again pressing his hand to his brow.
'You must not speak so, Philip,' then looking at him, 'Is your head aching?'
'Not so much aching as--' he paused, and exclaimed, as if carried away in spite of himself, 'almost bursting with the thoughts of--of you, Amy,--of him whom I knew too late,--wilfully misunderstood, envied, persecuted; who,--oh! Amy, Amy, if you could guess at the anguish of but one of my thoughts, you would know what the first murderer meant when he said, "My punishment is greater than I can bear."'
'I can't say don't think,' said Amy, in her sweet, calm tone; 'for I have seen how happy repentance made him, but I know it must be dreadful. I suppose the worse it is at the time, the better it must be afterwards. And I am sure this Prayer-book'--she had her hand on it all the time, as if it was a pleasure to her to touch it again--'must be a comfort to you. Did you not see that he made me give it to you to use that day, when, if ever, there was pardon and peace--'