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Updated: May 27, 2025
They knew of Hetty's probable fate the sentence to be pronounced to-morrow; they had whispered it one to another, and while they condemned her it awed them. Soon after nine Johnny Whitelamb came in from the fields where for two hours he had been walking fiercely but quite aimlessly. Great drops of sweat stood out on his temples, over which his hair fell lank and clammy.
The others scarcely spoke. At length Hetty, who had been struggling to swallow a biscuit, and well-nigh choking over it, rose abruptly, kissed her mother, and went straight to her father's room. At another table by the window Johnny Whitelamb bent over a map, with his back to the light.
Next morning, about an hour after breakfast, Mrs. She went at once. In the passage she met Johnny Whitelamb coming out. "I am to fetch Miss Hetty," he whispered with a world of dreadful meaning. But for once Johnny was not strictly obedient.
They will not have me inside, Jack: father will not see me, and has forbidden the others. But I saw Johnny Whitelamb. He told me that Charles was indoors, at work transcribing for father, and not easily fetched out; but that you were expected home from Epworth to-night. So I came to meet you. Was I running? I dare say. I was thirsty to see your face, dear, and hear your voice."
All looked at her; even Johnny Whitelamb looked, with a face as long as a fiddle. The comment was quiet, but the note of scorn in it could not be mistaken. Molly in revolt! Molly, of all persons! Molly sat trembling. She knew that among them all Johnny was her one ally and a hopelessly distressed and ineffective one.
"You are thinking out your sermon?" she asked, smiling. He nodded. "You seem tired," he remarked, eyeing her; but he did not rise or pick up his Bible to make room for her. "A little," she confessed; "and my ears are hot. But Charles very good-naturedly left his De Oratore on which I heard him say he was engaged to relieve me. Johnny Whitelamb had to finish colouring a map."
First it is no question of doing good to others, but to himself; and anon when he does most good to himself he will do most good to others. Am I a dead dog, to be pelted with such sophisms? Son Whitelamb, is your pen ready?" "Of what avail is it?" John Whitelamb asked himself. "These men, father and son, decide first, and, having decided, find no lack of arguments.
But this is a debt which I choose to acknowledge at once. None the less I wish you to understand that although your conduct to-day hastens my proposal, it has been in my head for some time. Whitelamb, would you like to go to Oxford?" Johnny gasped. "Sir sir!" he stammered. Mr. Wesley smiled. "I will speak to Jack. I think it can be managed if he will take you for his pupil, as no doubt he will.
But I see that others prepare the way for you and will do so, as Charles prepared it at Oxford: and finding it prepared, you take command and march onward. You were born to take command: the hand of God is evident upon you. But some grow faint by the way and drop behind, and you have no bowels for these." Silence fell between them. John Whitelamb broke it.
"If she's to marry a fellow like that, Sukey shan't visit her. I'm sorry for the girl too." Beyond the hedge, in a corner of the kitchen-garden, Johnny Whitelamb lay in his wet clothes with his face buried in a heap of mown grass. It was high June now, and the garden breaking into glory.
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