ng, and he wished that he
had not thrown stones at her. These thoughts made him very
uncomfortable, and he would have been glad to go anywhere, or do
anything which would enable him to cast them away from him. It was a
great relief when his father came with the medicine and other things for
Old Moggy, and told him that he might take them to her, but must return
immediately to his room, without stopping to talk to any one.

"Solitude is good for our spiritual welfare, to allow of reflection, but
we must not permit it to hinder us in the performance of the active
duties of life," observed the Doctor to his wife, when he told her how
he purposed treating William. "He wished to take the things to her, and
he is the fittest person to do so. It is well that he should feel that
he is useful and doing his duty; but at the same time it is necessary
that he should understand that the so doing cannot exonerate him from
the consequences of his transgressions."

William hastened out of the house with his basket. He knew that if he
met any of his school companions they would ask him how long he had
turned apothecary's boy, what wages he got, and whether he made the
pills as well. He determined not to mind. Still he anxiously looked
about, fearing some might appear. He ran on, therefore, till he reached
the steep part of the path up the mountain. As he climbed up his heart
again failed him, for he began to fear that Jenny Davis would at all
events scold him, and that perhaps Moggy, seeing him alone, would say
something disagreeable. Still, as he had volunteered to go, it would be
arrant cowardice if he turned back. He reached the hut and looked in at
the window. Jenny saw him, and saw that he had a basket in his hand.

"Come in, come in, my good young sir," she exclaimed.

The words encouraged William, and he entered.

"It's like your father's son to come and visit the poor and the
afflicted," she added. "I'm sure I thank ye, and so does she who lies
there, though she's ill able to speak now."

Moggy, whose senses had by this time returned, heard her.

"Ay--bless you, young gentleman! bless you!" she muttered. "I forgive
you, and thank you, and am your debtor; and there's One above who'll
forgive you if you go to Him."

It surprised and puzzled him that Moggy bore him no ill-will, after all
the injury he had inflicted on her. He did not stop to inquire how this
was, but, having left the contents of his basket, b