at one another a little ashamed, yet it had some remote analogy to that
delicious embarrassment of two lovers, at their first meeting after
they know all.




CHAPTER X.


It is very remarkable that Ned had so much good in him as we find
there; in the first place, born as he seemed to be of a wild, vagrant
stock, a seedling sown by the breezes, and falling among the rocks and
sands; the growing up without a mother to cultivate his tenderness with
kisses and the inestimable, inevitable love of love breaking out on all
little occasions, without reference to merit or demerit, unfailing
whether or no; mother's faith in excellences, the buds which were yet
invisible to all other eyes, but to which her warm faith was the genial
sunshine necessary to their growth; mother's generous interpretation of
all that was doubtful in him, and which might turn out good or bad,
according as should be believed of it; mother's pride in whatever the
boy accomplished, and unfailing excuses, explanations, apologies, so
satisfactory, for all his failures; mother's deep intuitive insight,
which should see the permanent good beneath all the appearance of
temporary evil, being wiser through her love than the wisest sage could
be,--the dullest, homeliest mother than the wisest sage. The Creator,
apparently, has set a little of his own infinite wisdom and love (which
are one) in a mother's heart, so that no child, in the common course of
things, should grow up without some heavenly instruction. Instead of
all this, and the vast deal more that mothers do for children, there