When Annie descended from her hateful eminence, just before the final
prayer, it was with a deeper sense of degradation than any violence of
the tawse on her poor little hands could have produced. Nor could the
attentions of Alec, anxiously offered as soon as they were out of
school, reach half so far to console her as they might once have
reached; for such was her sense of condemnation, that she dared not
take pleasure in anything. Nothing else was worth minding till
something was done about that. The thought of having God against her
took the heart out of everything.--As soon as Alec left her, she walked
with hanging head, pale face, and mournful eyes, straight to Mr Cowie's
door.
She was admitted at once, and shown into the library, where the
clergyman sat in the red dusky glow of the firelight, sipping a glass
of wine, and looking very much like an ox-animal chewing the cud; for
the meditation in which the good man indulged over his wine was seldom
worthy of being characterized otherwise than as mental rumination.
"Well, Annie, my dear, come away," said he, "I am glad to see you. How
does the boat get on?"
Deeply touched by a kindness which fell like dew upon the parching
misery of the day, Annie burst into tears.
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