ttling on his mother's behalf against an
unkind and angry world. And then he would wail to himself, and utter
sad words of shame, which they never thought had reached his ears. By
day, he was in general grave and quiet; but his appetite varied, and
he was evidently afraid of going into the streets, dreading to be
pointed at as an object of remark. Each separately in their hearts
longed to give him change of scene, but they were all silent, for
where was the requisite money to come from?
His temper became fitful and variable. At times he would be most
sullen against his mother; and then give way to a passionate remorse.
When Mr Benson caught Ruth's look of agony at her child's rebuffs,
his patience failed; or rather, I should say, he believed that a
stronger, severer hand than hers was required for the management of
the lad. But, when she heard Mr Benson say so, she pleaded with him.
"Have patience with Leonard," she said. "I have deserved the anger
that is fretting in his heart. It is only I who can reinstate myself
in his love and respect. I have no fear. When he sees me really
striving hard and long to do what is right, he must love me. I am not
afraid."
Even while she spoke, her lips quivered, and her colour went and came
with eager anxiety. So Mr Benson held his peace, and let her take her
course. It was beautiful to see the intuition by which she divined
what was passing in every fold of her child's heart, so as to be
always ready with the right words to soothe or to strengthen him. Her
watchfulness was unwearied, and with no thought of self-tainting in
it, or else she might have often paused to turn aside and weep at the
clouds of shame which came over Leonard's love for her, and hid it
from all but her faithful heart; she believed and knew that he was
yet her own affectionate boy, although he might be gloomily silent,
or apparently hard and cold. And in all this, Mr Benson could not
choose but admire the way in which she was insensibly teaching
Leonard to conform to the law of right, to recognise Duty in the mode
in which every action was performed. When Mr Benson saw this, he
knew that all goodness would follow, and that the claims which his
mother's infinite love had on the boy's heart would be acknowledged
at last, and all the more fully because she herself never urged them,
but silently admitted the force of the reason that caused them to be
for a time forgotten. By-and-by Leonard's remorse at his ungra
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