It was
a great risk, but there had been a penitence about both that Julius
trusted was genuine. A print of the Guardian Angel, which had been
her boy's treasure, had been hung by Fanny in her odd little
bedroom, and she had protested with tears that it would seem like
her boy calling her back if she were tempted again.
"Not that I trust much to that," said Julius. "Poor Fanny is soft,
and likes to produce an effect; but I believe there is sterling
stuff in Drake."
"And he never had a chance before," said Herbert.
"No. Which makes a great difference--all indeed between the
Publicans, or the Heathens, and the Pharisees. He can't read, and I
doubt whether he said the words rightly after me; but I am sure he
meant them."
"I suppose all this has done great good?" said Jenny.
"It will be our fault if it do not do permanent good. It ought,"
said Julius, gravely. "No, no, Herbert, I did not mean to load you
with the thought. Getting well is your business for the present--
not improving the occasion to others."
To which all that Herbert answered was, "Harry Hornblower!" as if
that name spoke volumes of oppression of mind.
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