. There was something more horrible than the two
girls had ever known in the silence of the place. It would have been
less awful if there had been a face at the broken door or windows.

"Henry--we must try to stop Henry," said poor pale Nelly, and they
hurried toward the river shore. They could not help looking anxiously
behind them as they passed the belt of pine; a terrible fear possessed
them as they ran. "He is afraid that somebody will see him. I wonder if
he will come home to-night."

"He must be ill there," said Betty, but she did not dare to say anything
else. What an unendurable thing to be afraid and ashamed of one's own
father!

They looked down the river with eager eyes. Yes, there was Harry
Foster's boat coming up slowly, with the three-cornered sail spread to
catch the light breeze. Nelly gave a long sigh and sank down on the
turf, and covered her face as she cried bitterly. Betty thought, with
cowardly longing, of the quiet and safety of Aunt Mary's room, and the
brown-covered volume of "Walton's Lives." Then she summoned all her
courage. These two might never have sorer need of a friend than in this
summer afternoon.

Henry Foster's boat sailed but slowly. It was heavily laden, and the
wind was so light that from time to time he urged it with the oars. He
did not see the two girls waiting on the bank until he was close to
them, for the sun was in his eyes and his thoughts were busy. His
father's escape from jail was worse than any sorrow yet; nobody knew
what might come of it. Harry felt very old and careworn for a boy of
seventeen. He had determined to go to see Miss Barbara Leicester that
evening, and to talk over his troubles with her. He had been able to
save a little money, and he feared that it might be demanded. He had
already paid off the smaller debts that were owed in the village; but he
knew his father too well not to be afraid of getting some menacing
letters presently. If his father had only fled the country! But how
could that be done without money? He would not work his passage; Harry
was certain enough of that. Would it not be better to let him have the
money and go to the farthest limit to which it could carry him?

Something made the young man shade his eyes with his hand and look
toward the shore; then he took the oars and pulled quickly in. That was
surely his sister Nelly, and the girl beside her, who wore a grayish
dress with a white blouse waist, was Betty Leicester. It was ju