"The girl is a liar, too," he muttered. "Here is the sheet Mary lost. Whew! Gibraltars, sticks of candy, lozenges, to the amount of five dollars. No wonder the child looks pale and has the headache. Well, what does her father say to such a bill?" He slackened his pace and read:
"MY DEAR SISTER,—The enclosed note came to hand yesterday morning. It was directed, as you see, to Aunt Clarissa, who would gladly have sent the money, and kept the knowledge of the letter from me. But I insisted on seeing it. I presume Ellen is not quite cured of her old habit of deceit, and has run up this bill without your knowledge. I enclose the amount, but wish you to do just as you think proper about paying it. The sight of the miserable, poorly spelled scrawl makes me blush for my daughter's ignorance.
"We all are well, though Joseph grows every day more wilful. What shall I do with the boy? It seems hard that I must deprive myself of the society of all my children, or see them growing up to be a curse to themselves, and to everybody who belongs to them.
"Your affectionate brother,
"JOSEPH SAUNDERS."
"There is a document which will help you to solve a mystery," remarked Dr. Collins to his wife, about the middle of the forenoon.
"Poor child! I feared something of this," was the tearful reply, after the lady had slowly perused both the enclosed letters. "Oh, how my sister would have grieved over her! The lost memorandum too! Oh, Ellen! Cannot you learn to be frank and truthful?"
"From Mr. Saunders's note, I fear one lesson will not suffice for him. Did you notice what he said about his boy?"
"Yes," she answered, sighing. "His father's neglect and Aunt Clarissa's indulgence will prove his ruin."
"Well, about Ellen, I would make a serious matter of this want of confidence. The child has been unhappy no doubt, as she deserved to be; but I would not pay the money too readily."
"If there was any way in which she could earn it, the lesson would be more lasting," exclaimed Mrs. Collins, eagerly.
After her husband left, the lady retired to her chamber, where, upon her knees, she sought counsel of her heavenly Father in regard to this case of discipline. By this exercise, her own feelings were softened, so that when Ellen returned from school, she was able to receive her with affection, a mode of treatment which cut the penitent child to the heart.
Mrs. Collins still hoped that the young girl would confess her fault. Little did she suspect the dreadful struggle between conscience and pride which was going on in the breast of her niece; but after waiting until evening, she followed the child to her chamber, where she found her with her head resting on her arm, the tears trickling down her cheeks. Stooping tenderly forward, the lady said,—