He chose out three or four shawls, of the nicest patterns, from the very same lot, marked in the very same way, folded them differently, and gave them to me to carry down.  “Now, ladies, here they are!” he said.  “These are quite a different thing, as you will see; and, indeed, they cost half as much again.”  In five minutes they had bought two of them, and paid just half as much more than he had asked for them the first time.  That’s Mr—–! and that’s what you should have done if you had wanted to keep your place.’—­But I assure you, sir, I could not help being glad to be out of it.”

“But there is nothing in all this to be miserable about,” I said.  “You did your duty.”

“It would be all right, sir, if father believed me.  I don’t want to be idle, I’m sure.”

“Does your father think you do?”

“I don’t know what he thinks.  He won’t speak to me.  I told my story—­as much of it as he would let me, at least—­but he wouldn’t listen to me.  He only said he knew better than that.  I couldn’t bear it.  He always was rather hard upon us.  I’m sure if you hadn’t been so kind to me, sir, I don’t know what I should have done by this time.  I haven’t another friend in the world.”

“Yes, you have.  Your Father in heaven is your friend.”

“I don’t know that, sir.  I’m not good enough.”

“That’s quite true.  But you would never have done your duty if He had not been with you.”

“Do you think so, sir?” he returned, eagerly.

“Indeed, I do.  Everything good comes from the Father of lights.  Every one that walks in any glimmering of light walks so far in his light.  For there is no light—­only darkness—­comes from below.  And man apart from God can generate no light.  He’s not meant to be separated from God, you see.  And only think then what light He can give you if you will turn to Him and ask for it.  What He has given you should make you long for more; for what you have is not enough—­ah! far from it.”

“I think I understand.  But I didn’t feel good at all in the matter.  I didn’t see any other way of doing.”

“So much the better.  We ought never to feel good.  We are but unprofitable servants at best.  There is no merit in doing your duty; only you would have been a poor wretched creature not to do as you did.  And now, instead of making yourself miserable over the consequences of it, you ought to bear them like a man, with courage and hope, thanking God that He has made you suffer for righteousness’ sake, and denied you the success and the praise of cheating.  I will go to your father at once, and find out what he is thinking about it.  For no doubt Mr—–­has written to him with his version of the story.  Perhaps he will be more inclined to believe you when he finds that I believe you.”

“Oh, thank you, sir!” cried the lad, and jumped up from his seat to go with me.

“No,” I said; “you had better stay where you are.  I shall be able to speak more freely if you are not present.  Here is a book to amuse yourself with.  I do not think I shall be long gone.”