“Traitor,” said the king, turning to Brithric, “thy false tongue hath not only slain my brother, but thyself!  Thou shalt die for having wickedly induced me to become his murderer!”

“And thou wilt live, O king, to suffer the pangs of an upbraiding conscience,” replied the culprit.  “Where was thy wisdom, where thy discrimination, where thy sense of justice, when thou lent so ready an ear to my false and improbable accusations against thy boyish brother?  I sought my own aggrandizement—­and to have achieved that I would have destroyed thee and placed him upon the throne.  I made him my tool—­you became my dupe—­and I now myself fall a victim to my own machinations.”

The guards then removed Brithric from the royal presence, and the next day he met with his deserts in a public execution.

As for the faithful Wilfrid, King Athelstane not only caused the lands and titles of which his father, Cendric, had been deprived, to be restored to him, but also conferred upon him great honors and rewards.  He lived to be the pride and comfort of his widowed mother, Ermengarde, and ever afterward enjoyed the full confidence of the king.

The royal Athelstane never ceased to lament the death of his unfortunate brother, Edwin.  He gained many great victories, and reigned long and gloriously over England, but he was evermore tormented by remorse of conscience for his conduct toward his youthful brother, Prince Edwin.

CISSY’S AMENDMENT.

By Anna L. Parker.

She was a dainty, blue-eyed, golden-haired darling, who had ruled her kingdom but four short years when the events in our history occurred.  Very short the four years had seemed, for the baby princess brought into the quiet old house such a wealth of love, with its golden sunshine, that time had passed rapidly since her arrival, as time always does when we are happy and contented.

Our little princess did not owe her title to royal birth, but to her unquestioned sway over those around her; a rule in which was so happily blended entreaty and command that her willing subjects were never quite sure to which they were yielding.  But of one thing they were sure, which was that the winning grace of the little sovereign equaled their pleasures in obeying her small commands, and the added fact—­a very important one—­that this queen of hearts never abused her power.

No little brothers nor sisters were numbered among the princess’ retainers, but she had had from her babyhood an inseparable companion and playfellow in Moses.  Now Moses was a big brown dog who, like his namesake of old, had been rescued from a watery grave, and it chanced that baby-girl and baby-dog became inmates of the quiet old house about the same time.  But the dog grew much faster than the little girl, as dogs are wont to do, and was quite a responsible person by the time Cissy could toddle around.