"Consider, Arthur," said she, "it is the first fault of the kind you ever were guilty of."
But this observation, far from comforting him, only added to his grief, as reminding him that he had now forfeited his good name. It was true, no one need know it but himself and Jane: but he was conscious of it, and therefore he could never again bear to be praised for being a good boy, when he knew he did not deserve that character.
"Dear Arthur," said Jane, "I think it will be the best to go to your uncle to-morrow morning, and tell him what you have done. He will not be so angry if you openly confess it to him; and I know you will never do so again."
Arthur tenderly embraced his little cousin, and thanked her for her good advice.
"Indeed, Jane," said he, "that will be the best plan: for I would rather my uncle should know it at once, and be angry, and punish me as I deserve; for then I might, by my future good conduct, atone for my transgression. But I never can look up in his face with pleasure again, knowing that I have deceived him."
Arthur now wished to tell his cousin about little Flora and her father; but a feeling of something like pride withheld him. He was afraid she might think he told her, only to lessen the crime he had committed in her eyes, he therefore remained silent on that subject; for Arthur knew well that a generous action, however excellent, did not obliterate the disgrace of deceit and falsehood.
The next morning, when Mr. Percy came into the study, to set Arthur and Jane their tasks, he offered to shake hands with his nephew, according to his usual custom; but Arthur, bursting into tears, exclaimed,
"Oh, Sir! I have been a very wicked boy, and am not worthy that you should shake hands with me."
Mr. Percy, much surprised, demanded an explanation; and Arthur, with great earnestness and simplicity, related what he had done.