"I am afraid," I said, with a sigh, "that it will be a long time before
I cease to offend you with such mistakes."

"There is no occasion to say that, for you have not offended me, only
you make me feel sorry. Every day when you are with me I try to teach
you something, to smooth the path for you; but you must remember, my
son, that others cannot feel towards you as I do, and it may come to
pass that they will sometimes be offended with you, because their love
is less than mine."

"But why do you care so much for me?" I asked, emboldened by her words.
"Once I thought that you only of all in the house would never love me:
what has changed your feelings towards me, for I know that they have
changed?" She looked at me, smiling a little sadly, but did not reply.
"I think I should be happier for knowing," I resumed, caressing her
hand. "Will you not tell me?"

There was a strange trouble on her face as her eyes glanced away and
then returned to mine again, while her lips quivered, as if with
unspoken words. Then she answered: "No, I cannot tell you now. It would
make you happy, perhaps, but the proper time has not yet arrived. You
must be patient, and learn, for you have much to learn. It is my desire
that you should know all those things concerning the family of which you
are ignorant, and when I say all, I mean not only those suitable to one
in your present condition, as a son of the house, but also those higher
matters which belong to the heads of the house--to the father and
mother."

Then, casting away all caution, I answered: "It is precisely a knowledge