She only let me be a communicant on Easter
Day, because I did mean to make a fresh start-—and I did mean it with
all my heart; only when that supper was talked of, I didn't like to
stick out against you, Brownlow; I never could, you know, and I
didn't know what it was coming to."
"Nor I," said Jock; "that's the worst of it. When a lark begins one
doesn't know how far one will get carried on. But that night I
thought about the Confirmation, and how I had made the promise
without really thinking about it, and never had been to Holy
Communion."
"I meant it all," said Cecil, "and broke it, so I'm worst."
"Well!" said Jock, "if I go back from the promise little Armie made
me make about being Christ's faithful soldier and servant I could
never face him again—-no, nor death either! You can't think what it
was like, Evelyn, sitting in the dead stillness-—except for an awful
crack and rumbling in the ice, and the solid snow fog shutting one
in. How ugly, and brutish, and horrid all those things did look; and
how it made me long to have been like the little fellow in my arms,
or even this poor little dog, who knew no better. Then somehow came
now and then a wonderful sense that God was all round us, and that
our Lord had done all that for my forgiveness, if I only meant to do
right in earnest.
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