Mr. Malcolm returned to the library, and told Lewie that his mother had decided to leave them settle this matter between themselves.  He should remain there, he said; he could employ himself very agreeably with the books.  Lewie might lie on the floor and scream, or get up and study; but until that lesson was learned, he would not leave the library, or taste a morsel of food.

The shrieks were now renewed in a louder and more agonized tone than ever, and were plainly heard in Mrs. Elwyn’s sitting-room, where, in a state bordering on distraction, she was hurriedly pacing the floor, at times almost determined to insist upon being admitted to the library, that she might take her unhappy son to her arms, and dismiss his inexorable tutor; and then deterred from this course by the promise she had made, and the deep respect which she could not but feel for the young minister.  She could not but confess, too, in her inmost heart, that this discipline was really for the good of her passionate boy, though the means resorted to seemed to her severe.  Of the two, she was more wretched than Lewie, who really had no small sense of enjoyment, in the consciousness of the pain and annoyance he was causing to others.

The screams now ceased, and the anxious mother really hoped that Lewie was about to comply with his tutor’s wishes, and that she should soon clasp him to her breast, wipe away his tears, and soothe his troubled heart.  She was already, in her mind, planning some reward for him for condescending at length to yield his stubborn will.  But the quiet was only in consequence of the utter exhaustion of Master Lewie’s lungs, and he took refuge in a dogged silence, still rolling on the floor.  Mr. Malcolm sat reading, as much at his ease, and apparently with as much interest, as if he were the only occupant of the library.

At last the young rebel was made aware, by certain ringing sounds, and divers savory odors, that the hour of dinner had arrived; and his appetite being considerably sharpened by the excitement through which he had passed, he began to entertain the suspicion that he had been rather foolish in holding out so long in his obstinacy.  He really wished that he had learned the lesson, and was free for the afternoon; but how to come down was the puzzle now.  He determined to be as ugly about it as possible, thinking that his tutor might be pretty weary by that time as well as he, and might hail joyfully any tokens of submission.

So Master Lewie began to call out: 

“I want my dinner!”

“What is that, Lewie?” said Mr. Malcolm, looking up quietly from his book.

“I want my dinner, I tell you!” roared Lewie.

Pushing his book towards him, Mr. Malcolm said, in a quiet, determined manner: 

“You know the conditions, Lewie, on which you leave this room:  they will not change, if we remain here together till to-morrow morning.  This lesson must be learned and recited perfectly, before you taste any food.”