Leonard's tone--only measureless sorrow.
The boy's sensitive lips quivered.
"Forgive me, grandfather," he whispered beseechingly.
"You never forbid him to come," old Abel broke in angrily.
"Be just, Mr. Leonard--be just."
"I AM just. Felix knows that he has disobeyed me, in the spirit
if not in the letter. Do you not know it, Felix?"
"Yes, grandfather, I have done wrong--I've known that I was doing
wrong every time I came. Forgive me, grandfather."
"Felix, I forgive you, but I ask you to promise me, here and now,
that you will never again, as long as you live, touch a violin."
Dusky crimson rushed madly over the boy's face.
He gave a cry as if he had been lashed with a whip.
Old Abel sprang to his feet.
"Don't you ask such a promise of him, Mr. Leonard," he cried furiously.
"It's a sin, that's what it is. Man, man, what blinds you?
You ARE blind. Can't you see what is in the boy? His soul
is full of music. It'll torture him to death--or to worse--
if you don't let it have way."
"There is a devil in such music," said Mr. Leonard hotly.
"Ay, there may be, but don't forget that there's a Christ
in it, too," retorted old Abel in a low tense tone.
Mr. Leonard looked shocked; he considered that old Abel had
uttered blasphemy.
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