er since
you went out. I'm afraid the disappointment will throw him back sadly."

Charlie could not trust himself to speak, but turned into the sick room.
His father was propped up with pillows, and looked eagerly to the door
when Charlie entered; he still waited in expectation until Mrs. Heedman
came in and closed the door. "Where is she?" he asked; "where is Jane?"

"She has not come," said Mrs. Heedman, gently; "perhaps to-morrow
morning will bring her.--You posted that letter in time, Charlie?" she
asked.

"Yes, mother," Charlie answered, in desperation, and in a very low
voice.

"It will be too late to-morrow," said John Heedman, sinking back on his
pillows exhausted--"it will be too late." He lay so still for about an
hour that Charlie thought he slept; after that he called Charlie to him,
and wished him to sit up that night with his mother. He spoke very
tenderly and lovingly, and told Charlie how happy his gratitude and love
and obedience had made him, and how he thanked God that Charlie had
never told him an untruth or deceived him, although he had still grave
faults to overcome. He spoke for some time, every word sending a pang
to Charlie's heart, who knew how unworthy he was of his confidence and
praise. He sobbed hysterically, but was unable to speak.

What a night that was for Charlie, as he sat there with his mother hour
after hour in the still and darkened room! His anguish and remorse
became unbearable. How could he let his father die without undeceiving
him and asking his forgiveness? He could not--he must not. Oh! if he had
only spoken at first, when the first false step was taken, he would not
have been led into all this sinful deceit, and that terrible lie would
never have been told. Now it was such a difficult task--and yet he must
do it. He glanced at the timepiece: when the hour-hand reached one he
would tell him; he would think now what he had better say--how he should
begin. How fast that hour seemed to fly! It was one o'clock, and he had
nothing ready to say; he dare not begin; he would wait until two,
perhaps his father would be awake then. Two o'clock came; his father
still slept, looking so calm and peaceful--how could he disturb him to
listen to his sad tale of sin and shame?

Soon after his father awoke; he started up and looked anxiously round.
Charlie and his mother felt instinctively that it was death. In his
terror, Charlie sprang towards him. "Father, forgive me," he burst out,