Arthur felt all the pain arising from conscious guilt. He hung his head in silence, whilst his uncle, glancing his eyes over the writing, exclaimed, "Very well, indeed! very prettily done! I give you a deal of credit for this; and so short a time as you had to do it in, too! Well, we shall see, if you improve so fast, what I shall do."
"Arthur, who had never deceived his good uncle before, felt more pain at this unmerited praise than if he had been punished as he deserved.
"Oh," thought he, "if my uncle did but know how wicked I have been, he would never forgive me."
Mr. Percy told him to put on his hat and great-coat, for they had no time to lose.
"Good bye, my little Jane," said Mr. Percy, as he shut the street door.
"Good bye, dear papa, and cousin Arthur," cried Jane Percy, going into the parlour.
"I never knew you so very silent before, Arthur: what is it you are thinking of?" said Mr. Percy, as they entered the shop of Mansel, the bookseller.
Arthur was spared the trouble of replying, for Mr. Mansel then came forward, and entered into conversation with Mr. Percy.
Arthur walked to the door: he scarcely knew what was going forward, his mind being too much occupied in reflecting upon his late transgression, and in considering what he had best do. At length he determined to tell his cousin, and ask her advice. He had not observed the people who were hurrying along to escape a heavy fall of snow, till his ear was attracted by the plaintive tones of a child's voice, asking charity. He looked up, and beheld a little girl without any shoes or stockings, leading by the hand a Highland soldier, who was very handsome, but quite blind. He appeared scarce thirty years of age: the tattered remnant of a plaid which was wrapt round him bespoke poverty and distress in the extreme, and scarcely sufficed to defend his body from the cold wind and snow. On his head he wore a sort of cap or bonnet, of various colours; through the many holes of which his yellow hair appeared, and waved to the breeze in long curls. By his side he wore an old sword, which made Arthur conclude that he was a soldier. The little girl had been asking relief of the passengers; but no one thought it worth while to stop, at the risk of getting wet, to inquire into the cause of their distress. One man rudely pushed the little suppliant away, calling her an impostor, and a little beggar brat. She then turned with a sorrowful look towards Arthur, who dropped into the plaid bonnet which she held in her hand all the halfpence he had about him, and inquired if her father were quite blind?