“Yes, grandpa ought,” sobbed Eddie, “I’ve been such a wicked, wicked boy, I deserve the dreadfulest whipping that ever was.  And papa can’t do it now!” he cried with a fresh burst of grief and remorse, “and mamma won’t like to.  Grandpa, it’ll have to be you.  Please do it quick, ’cause I want it over.”

“And has all this distress been for fear of punishment?” asked Mr. Dinsmore, taking the child’s hand, and bending down to look searchingly into his face.

“Oh no, no, no, grandpa!  I’d rather be whipped any day than to know I’ve hurt my dear papa so.  Grandpa, won’t you do it quick?”

“No, my son, I am not fond of such business and shall not punish you unless requested to do so by your father or mother.  The doctor hopes your father will be about again in a week or two, and he can then attend to your case himself.”

“Oh then he won’t die! he won’t die, our dear, dear papa!” cried both children in a breath.

“No; God has been very good to us all in causing the ball to strike where it could do but little injury.  And Edward, I hope this will be such a lesson to you all your life as will keep you from ever disobeying again.”

They were passing up the avenue, Eddie moving submissively along by his grandfather’s side, but with tottering steps; for the dreadful excitement of the last hour had exhausted him greatly.  Perceiving this Mr. Dinsmore presently took him in his arms and carried him to the house.

Low pitiful sobs and sighs were the only sounds the little fellow made till set down in the veranda; but then clinging to his grandfather’s hand, he burst out afresh, “O grandpa, I can’t go in!  I can’t, I can’t see mamma, for she can’t love me any more.”

The mother heard and came quickly out.  The tears were coursing down her cheeks, her mother heart yearned over her guilty, miserable child:  stooping down and stretching out her arms, “Eddie, my little son,” she said in tender tremulous accents, “come to mother.  If my boy is truly sorry for his sin, mamma has no reproaches for him:  nothing but forgiveness and love.”

He threw himself upon her bosom, “Mamma, mamma, I am sorry, oh, so sorry!  I will never, never disobey papa or you again.”

“God helping you, my son; if you trust in your own strength you will be sure to fall.”

“Yes mamma; oh, mamma, I’ve been the wickedest boy!  I disobeyed my father and shooted him; and oughtn’t I to have a dreadful whipping?  Shall grandpa do it?”

Mrs. Travilla lifted her full eyes inquiringly to her father’s face.

“It is all his own idea,” said Mr. Dinsmore with emotion, “I think he has already had a worse punishment by far in his grief and remorse.”

Elsie heaved a sigh of relief.  “I think his father would say so too; it shall be decided by him when he is able.  Eddie, my son, papa is too ill now to say what shall be done with you.  I think he does not even know of your disobedience.  You will have to wait some days.  The suspense will be hard to bear, I know, but my little boy must try to be patient, remembering that he has brought all this suffering on himself.  And in the meantime he has mamma’s forgiveness and love,” she added folding him to her heart with a tender caress.