The old lady would have been shocked to learn how the imagination of the ill-mothered lad interpreted her care over him, but she would not have been surprised to know that the two were merry in her absence.

She knew that, in some of her own moods, it would be a relief to think that that awful eye of God was not upon her.

But she little thought that even in the lawless proceedings about to follow, her Robert, who now felt such a relief in her absence, would be walking straight on, though blindly, towards a sunrise of faith, in which he would know that for the eye of his God to turn away from him for one moment would be the horror of the outer darkness.
Merriment, however, was not in Robert's thoughts, and still less was mischief.

For the latter, whatever his grandmother might think, he had no capacity.

The world was already too serious, and was soon to be too beautiful for mischief.