She started back, her lips actually blanched and her eyes glowing.
"My son has told a lie!" she cried, and kept repeating it over and over again.

"My son has looked me in the face and told me a lie--his first lie!" "Hush, Helen!" for her manner seemed actually to frighten the child.
"No, I can not pass it over! I dare not! He must be punished.

Come!" She seized Boy by the hand, looking another way, and was moving off with him, as if she hardly knew what she was doing.
"Helen!" called the earl, almost reproachfully; for, in his opinion, out of all comparison with the offense seemed the bitterness with which the mother felt it, and was about to punish it.

"Tell me, first, what are you going to do with the child ?" "I hardly know--I must think--must pray.

What if my son, my only son, should inherit--I mean, if he should grow up a liar ?" That word "inherit" betrayed her.