"I hardly know. Oh, Hugh dear, it is not so much the drinking a glass of beer. I would not wish to condemn anyone for doing that, if it were all open and above board; though of course I have long ago made up my mind about it. But I think where you feel wrong has been that you _felt_ you were doing what father would disapprove, and you had not courage to resist." "Yes," said Hugh sorrowfully. "So that is what you want to confess to Him, and ask to have pardoned?" They were silent, looking into the fire. "I thought you'd scold me awfully," he said at last. "Did you?" asked Agnes; "you should go to somebody who has not sinned herself if you want that." "But you've never been tempted to go and take advantage of your parents' being away, and do exactly as you knew they'd hate you to do." "No," answered Agnes, "my temptations may not be the same as yours, and yet I've just as much to be sorry for when I go to my Lord as you have." "_Just_ as much?" asked Hugh, looking in her face, "do you mean that really, Agnes." "Yes, I do. I'm thankful every day of my life, that these words are written: "Who forgiveth _all_ thine iniquities." Hugh put his arms round her. "Then you forgive me, Agnes?" he asked. "All my share of it, dear. But----" "Mother and father?" "Oh, no, I was not thinking of them! I am sure they will----" "I know what you mean," said Hugh very softly, "and I'll go to Him." He left the room without another word, and Agnes had to do the rest of her locking-up alone. Blinded with tears she went to every room, and then ascended to her own chamber. Alice and Minnie were in bed, and asleep. She went and stood at the dressing-table, slowly unpinning her rose, when her eye fell upon a Christmas card, which had been given her by Hugh himself that very morning. "_Jesus_: for He shall save His people from their sins." She opened her door, crossed the landing, and tapped at Hugh's. "Look here!" she said, handing it in, and bending to kiss him. He looked at the words, then up in her face, and there was that in his eyes which made Agnes say: "Hugh! you've been to Him?" And Hugh whispered an earnest "Yes." [Illustration] [Illustration] CHAPTER XV. _WHERE ONE PUDDING WENT._ Agnes was one of those girls who loved to be a true elder sister. Many a time, when she sat down to tell a story, she would have preferred to bury herself in an interesting book, or to go on with a piece of painting, or delicate needlework; but by experience she had learned the blessedness of giving rather than taking pleasure, and her restless brothers interested for an hour, or Alice's and Minnie's hearts warmed and stirred up by a story, was, in her estimation, something accomplished for her Lord and Master.