When Mr. Monroe came home to supper, and learned the disgraceful story, he started from his chair in great excitement, exclaiming,—
"Henry ought to be sent to the Reform School. If he goes on so, he will come to the gallows. If he dares lay a finger on you, Ernest, I'll have him put there. John may fume and rage as much as he will. I've borne all that I shall from his family."
"Mary Anne feels dreadfully," urged Mrs. Monroe. "I'm so sorry for her sake."
"She'll feel worse yet, Jane, if nothing is done to prevent Henry from acting so shamefully. I yielded to you against my own judgment, and let John believe our Ernest stole his keys. I'll do so no longer."
In the evening, he went over to talk with Mary Anne.
Henry knew that his mother had heard the story of the knife. At the supper-table, the tears trickled down her cheeks, and once she said,—
"O Henry! You'll break my heart if you go on so. Why can't you confess to the teacher, and be a good boy?"
Feeling very restless and unhappy, he went up to his room early; but soon, hearing his uncle's voice, talking in excited tones, he crept softly down to the door where he could hear every word.
"I ought to have done it before," Mr. Monroe was saying. "John has reason to be angry. It isn't doing as I would have him do to me. Henry grows worse every day, and something must be done to correct his dreadful habit of lying."
"I'm afraid John will break every bone in his body," sobbed Mary Anne. "If it hadn't been for that, I should have told him myself about the keys."