mise to come."

"Sarah," replied I, earnestly, "I will come; and to prove to you that we
are friends, I will ask a favour of him."

"Oh, Jacob, this is kind indeed," cried Sarah, with her eyes swimming
with tears. "You have made me so--so very happy!"

The meeting with Sarah humanised me, and every feeling of revenge was
chased from my memory. Mrs Drummond joined us soon after, and proposed
to return. "And Jacob will pull us back," cried Sarah. "Come, sir,
look after your _fare_, in both senses. Since you will be a waterman,
you shall work." I laughed and handed them to the boat. Tom took the
other oar, and we were soon at the steps close to their house.

"Mamma, we ought to give these poor fellows something to drink; they've
worked very hard," said Sarah, mocking. "Come up, my good men." I
hesitated. "Nay, Jacob, if tomorrow why not to-day? The sooner these
things are over the better."

I felt the truth of this observation, and followed her. In a few
minutes I was again in that parlour in which I had been dismissed, and
in which the affectionate girl burst into tears on my shoulder, as I
held the handle of the door. I looked at it, and looked at Sarah. Mrs
Drummond had gone out of the room to let Mr Drummond know that I had
come. "How kind you were, Sarah!" said I.

"Yes, but kind people are cross sometimes, and so am I--and so was--"

Mr Drummond came in, and stopped her. "Jacob, I am glad to see you
again in my house; I was deceived by appearances, and did you
injustice." How true is the observation of the wise man, that a soft
word turneth away wrath; that Mr Drummond should personally acknowledge
that he was wrong to me--that he should confess it--every feeling of
resentment was gone, and others crowded in their place. I recollected
how he had protected the orphan--how he had provided him with
instruction--how he had made _his_ house a home to me--how he had tried
to bring me forward under his own protection I recollected--which, alas!
I never should have forgotten--that he had treated me for years with
kindness and affection, all of which had been obliterated from my memory
by one single act of injustice. I felt that I was a culprit, and burst
into tears; and Sarah, as before, cried in sympathy.

"I beg your pardon, Mr Drummond," said I, as soon as I could speak; "I
have been very wrong in being so revengeful after so much kindness from
you."

"We both have been wrong--but say no more