I must
have a talk with my wife about it! She is sure to know what will be best!"
"My advice is to leave it all in the hands of the moderator. We have no
right to choose, appoint, or apportion our own penalties!"
James went home and laid the whole matter before his wife.
Instead of looking frightened, or even anxious, Isy laid little Peter
softly in his crib, threw her arms round James's neck, and cried--
"Thank God, my husband, that you have come to this! Don't think to leave me
out, I beg of you. I am more than ready to accept my shame. I have always
said _I_ was to blame, and not you! It was me that should have known
better!"
"You trusted me, and I proved quite unworthy of your confidence!--But had
ever man a wife to be so proud of as I of you!"
Mr. Robertson brought the matter carefully before the synod; but neither
James nor Isy ever heard anything more of it--except the announcement of
the cordial renewal of James's licence. This was soon followed by the offer
of a church in the poorest and most populous parish north of the Tweed.
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