His father assented, and the servant was ordered to go in search of Arthur, and bring him to the library.

Arthur had been expecting such a summons, and had quite made up his mind what to do.

“Confess!” he said to himself; “no, indeed, I’ll not! nobody but Elsie knows that I did it, and she’ll never tell; so I’ll stick to it that it was only an accident.”

He came in with a look of sullen, dogged determination on his countenance, and stood before his father and brother with folded arms, and an air of injured innocence.  He was careful, however, not to meet his brother’s eye.

“Arthur,” began his father, sternly, “this is shameful, cowardly behavior, utterly unworthy of a son of mine—­this unprovoked assault upon a defenceless little girl.  It has always been considered a cowardly act to attack one weaker than ourselves.”

“I didn’t do it! she slipped and fell of herself,” replied the boy fiercely, speaking through his clenched teeth.

“Arthur,” said his brother, in a calm, firm tone, “the alternative before you is a frank and full confession here in private, or a disgraceful, public exposure in the drawing-room.  You had better confess, for I have not the least doubt of your guilty because I well know that Elsie would have asserted your innocence, had she been able to do so with truth.”

“She wouldn’t; she hates me,” muttered the boy; “yes, and I hate her, too,” he added, almost under his breath.  But his brother’s quick ear caught the words.

“Yes,” he answered, bitterly; “you have given full proof of that; but never, while I live, shall you have another opportunity to wreak your hellish rage upon her.”

But threats and persuasions were alike powerless to move Arthur’s stubborn will; for, trusting to their supposed inability to prove his guilt, he persisted in denying it; and at length, much against his inclination, was forced to accompany his father and brother to the drawing-room, where the entire household was already assembled.

There was a good deal of excitement and whispering together, especially amongst the younger portion of the assembly, and many conjectures as to the cause of their being thus called together; nearly all giving it as their decided opinion that Elsie’s accident had something to do with it.

Herbert was looking pale and nervous, and kept very close to his mamma, Harry Carrington and Carrie Howard were grave and thoughtful, while Lucy and Mary seemed restless and excited, and the lesser ones full of curiosity and expectation.  There was quite a little buzz all over the room as the two gentlemen and Arthur entered, but it died away instantly, and was succeeded by an almost death-like stillness, broken the next moment by the elder Mr. Dinsmore’s voice, as he briefly stated his object in thus calling them together, and earnestly requested any one present who could throw the least light on the subject, to speak.