Come to my lap again, and kiss me, or I shall be wretched." Harry still maintained his attitude and his silence.

A furious word from an angel would not have surprised or pained him more than this expression of her anger, that had flashed upon him like a fire from hell.
Still the lady knelt, and pleaded for his forgiveness.
"No one loves me, Harry.

If you leave me, and do not forgive me, I shall wish I were dead.

You cannot be so cruel." "I didn't know that ladies ever said such words," said Harry.
"Ladies who have little boys to love them never do," responded Mrs.
Dillingham.
"If I love you, shall you ever speak so again ?" inquired Harry.
"Never, with you and God to help me," she responded.
She rose to her feet, led the boy to her chair, and once more held him in her embrace.
"You can do me a great deal of good, Harry--a great deal more good than you know, or can understand.

Men and women make me worse.