any notice of me whatever; others
seemed disposed to patronize me by their notice, which was more humbling
still to one of my sensitive nature. The first ray of light which
penetrated the darkness which had settled over my spirit was when Willie
and Rose Oswald overtook me after a rapid walk, I having hurried away
from every one. "What made you run away Walter," said Rose, panting for
breath, "a nice race you have given us to overtake you. You needn't feel
so bad," she continued, "I know you never took Papa's money, and I am
certain he thinks just as I do, only he durst not speak too positively
in the school-room; it is the work of some wicked bad boys, and you see
if Papa don't find out the truth before he's done with it." I thought it
unmanly to cry but it required a strong effort to keep back my tears, as
I replied, "I am glad you believe me Rose, for I tell you again I _did
not_ take that money, never saw it till it was taken from my pocket. I
cannot tell whether I shall ever be proved innocent or not, if not what
will become of me; it would break my mother's heart to know I was even
suspected of such a crime." "Never fear, Walter, trust Papa to find it
out," said the hopeful Rose. They departed with a kind "good night" and
I proceeded sorrowfully to my home.

CHAPTER XIV.

It was with a heavy-heart that I performed my usual tasks that evening;
and, before I could summon courage to relate my trouble to uncle Nathan,
Mr. Oswald called, and himself acquainted him with the matter. Free from
the presence of the other scholars, he said he had not the slightest
belief in my guilt, but looked upon it as a mischievous plot formed
among some other members of the school. "I know not," said he, "whether
or no the mystery will over be cleared up; but I shall spare no pains to
that end, for I must in someway or other have Walter cleared from blame;
but how it is to be brought about the future alone most tell." Uncle
Nathan, and even Aunt Lucinda, did not for a moment believe me guilty,
and felt for me a deep sympathy as I sat by, in a dejected attitude,
with my arms resting on the table and my face buried in my hands. Aunt
Lucinda defended me in her usual sharp positive manner, and was for
proceeding at once to some severe measures; but Mr. Oswald reminded her
that, if such were the case, the truth would in all probability never
come to light.

Good old Grandma Adams rose from her seat and, walking with uncertain
ste