"She's had a baby," he said after a moment.
The simple bald fact was horrible as he said it. I could not speak, and
after a little hesitation he continued in a tone so low I could scarcely
hear him.
"It's his. Think of the shame of it and the sin of it. It seems to me,
if it could only have been the Lord's will, I would have been glad to
die rather than to have this happen. My son!"
The wail of his voice went to my heart and made me shiver. I would have
given anything I possessed to comfort him, but what could I say? Shame
is worse than death. When one dies you can at least speak of the
happiness that has been and the consolation of the memory of this. In
disgrace whatever has been good before makes the shame only the harder
to bear. What could I say to a father mourning the sin and the disgrace
of his only son?