As he stood there it seemed to him that he must have been crazy. He
could not endure the sight of that sorrowful figure, and turning to go
away, instead; the next minute he was kneeling beside her saying,
"Aunt Zelie, I am _so_ sorry."
She was startled, for she had not heard him; but she turned and put
her arms around him for a moment, without speaking.
"Aunt Zelie, I know how contemptible I am; you ought not to have
anything to do with me," Carl exclaimed in a great burst of
contrition. She took his hand and held it fast as she answered, "I
can't throw stones at you, dear, but perhaps I can help you to learn
the lesson I have had to learn many times."
He never forgot that afternoon. How he sat beside her with his head on
her shoulder, while she talked to him as she had never talked before.
How his face glowed with mingled shame and pride as she said that, of
all the children, he was, if possible, the dearest to her.
"But I have more fear for you than for the others. I long to have you
grow up a strong, true man--master of yourself in every sense. If you
do not, I shall feel that in some way it is my fault."
"I will try to be what you want me to be--like Uncle Carl--if I
can; and nobody in the world could help me as you do.
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