And the girl who died was called Hetty
Rodman, then, and she simply gave the child her last name?"
"Yes, poor suffering creature. I feel no anger against her now;
it has burned itself all away. Nor do I feel any bitterness
against your father. I forgot all this miserable story for so
long, loving and watching for him all the time, that it is as if
it did not belong to my own life, but had to do with some unhappy
stranger. Can you forgive, too, Ivory?"
"I can try," he answered. "God knows I ought to be able to if you
can!"
"And will it turn you away from Rod?"
"No, it draws me nearer to him than ever. He shall never know the
truth--why should he? Just as he crept close to you that night,
all unconscious of the reason you had for shrinking from him, so
he has crept close to me in these years of trial, when your mind
has been wandering."
"Life is so strange. To think that this child, of all others,
should have been a comfort to you. The Lord's hand is in it!"
whispered Mrs. Boynton feebly.
"His boyish belief in me, his companionship, have kept the breath
of hope alive in me--that's all I can say."
"The Bible story is happening over again in our lives, then.
Don't you remember that Aaron's rod budded and blossomed and bore
fruit, and that the miracle kept the rebels from murmuring?"
"This rebel never will murmur again, mother, and Ivory rose to
leave the room.
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