"Then I shall have to tell him," with a sigh.
This was not an easy thing to do. That they were the best of companions and friends made it all the harder, for he felt he had forfeited the right to this good-fellowship.
Carl told his story with such evident shame and repentance that, though he listened with a grave face, Mr. Hazeltine could not find it in his heart to be very severe.
"I did not think," he said, "that my only son could be guilty of such a cruel and ungentlemanly act."
"You see," his father continued, laying his hand on his shoulder, "I always had such a tender feeling for my little sister that it is hard for me to understand how you could be so unkind."
It was Carl's private opinion that Aunt Zélie could never have been so trying as Helen, but he did not say so. They had a serious talk, and for a week after, Carl was seen only at the table, for he and his father decided that as he had sinned against the happiness of the family, he must forfeit the privileges of the family life for a while.
Everybody was glad when the week was over, Carl most of all.
No one else knew how lonely those evenings were, spent in his room, or how he longed to join the group around the library fire.
Helen was deeply impressed by her brother's humble apology, and decided that after all she wasn't glad she had spoiled his composition, but very sorry she had been so meddlesome.