It would be sad if God never did
forgive him. It was bad to be in prison, but he got out and wasn't wicked
any more. Did you ever see him, Aunt Prue?"
"Yes, dear, many times."
"Did you love him?"
"I loved him better than I loved anybody, and Uncle John loved him."
"Was he ever in this room?"
"Yes. He has been many times in this chair in which you and I are
sitting; he used to love to hear me play on that piano; and we used to
walk in the garden together, and he called me 'Prue' and not Aunt Prue,
as you do."
"Aunt Prue!" the child's voice was frightened. "I know who your story is
about."
"Your dear papa!"
"Yes, my dear papa!"
"And aren't you glad he is safe through it all, and God his forgiven
him?"
"Yes, I'm glad; but I'm sorry he was in that prison."
"He was happy with you, afterward, you know. He had your mamma and she
loved him, and then he had you and you loved him."
"But I'm sorry."
"So am I, darling, and so is Uncle John; we are all sorry, but we are
glad now because it is all over and he cannot sin any more or suffer any
more. I wanted to tell you while you were little, so that somebody would
not tell you when you grow up. When you think about him, thank God that
he forgave him,--that is the happy part of it."
"Why didn't papa tell me?"
"He knew I would tell you some day, if you had to know. I would rather
tell you than have any one else in the world tell you."
"I won't tell anybody, ever. I don't want people to know my papa was in a
prison.
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