But, notwithstanding this, she looked absolutely attractive and interesting at the present moment, as she sat with Zack in her arms, bending over him while he studied his three verses in the "Bible Texts." Women who have been ill-used by nature have this great advantage over men in the same predicament--wherever there is a child present, they have a means ready at hand, which they can all employ alike, for hiding their personal deficiencies.

Who ever saw an awkward woman look awkward with a baby in her arms?
Who ever saw an ugly woman look ugly when she was kissing a child?
Zack, who was a remarkably quick boy when he chose to exert himself, got his lesson by heart in so short a time that his mother insisted on hearing him twice over, before she could satisfy herself that he was really perfect enough to appear in his father's presence.

The second trial decided her doubts, and she took him in triumph down stairs.
Mr.Thorpe was reading intently, Mr.Goodworth was thinking profoundly, the rain was falling inveterately, the fog was thickening dirtily, and the austerity of the severe-looking parlor was hardening apace into its most adamantine Sunday grimness, as Zack was brought to say his lesson at his father's knees.

He got through it perfectly again; but his childish manner, during this third trial, altered from frankness to distrustfulness; and he looked much oftener, while he said his task, at Mr.Goodworth than at his father.

When the texts had been repeated, Mr.
Thorpe just said to his wife, before resuming his book--"You may tell the nurse, my dear, to get Zachary's dinner ready for him--though he doesn't deserve it for behaving so badly about learning his lesson." "Please, grandpapa, may I look at the picture-book you brought for me last night, after I was in bed ?" said Zack, addressing Mr.Goodworth, and evidently feeling that he was entitled to his reward now he had suffered his punishment.
"Certainly not on a Sunday," interposed Mr.Thorpe; "your grandpapa's book is not a book for Sundays." Mr.Goodworth started, and seemed about to speak; but recollecting what he had said to Mr.Thorpe, contented himself with poking the fire.