at the top of the stair. "That boy
will be my death. Hughie," she called, "just shut that cupboard! You
know your mother doesn't like you to go in there."

"I only want a little," called out Hughie, still moving the dishes, and
hearing, to his great relief, Jessie's descending step. In desperation
he seized a dish of black currant preserves which he found on the
cupboard shelf, and spilled it over the dishes and upon the floor just
as Jessie entered the room.

"Land sakes alive, boy! Will you never be done your mischief?" she
cried, rushing toward him.

"Oh!" he said, "I spilt it."

"Spilt it!" echoed Jessie, indignantly, "you needn't be telling me that.
Bring me a cloth from the kitchen."

"I don't know where it is, Jessie," cried Hughie, slipping upstairs
again with his candle.

To his great relief he saw that Jessie's attention was so entirely taken
up with removing the stains of the preserves from the cupboard shelves
and dishes, that she for the moment forgot everything else, Robbie's
stockings included.

Hurrying to his room, and shading the candle with his hand lest the
light should waken his little brother, he hastily seized the money upon
the bed quilt, and after a few moments' searching under the bed, found
the strayed quarter.

With these in his hand he passed into his mother's room. Leaving the
candle there, he came back to the head of the stairs and listened for
a moment, with great satisfaction, to Jessie muttering to herself while
she cleaned up the mess he had made. Then he turned, and with trembling
fingers he swiftly made up the quarter-dollars into another parcel. With
a great sigh of relief he put the two parcels in his pocket, and seizing
his candle turned to leave the room. As he did so, he caught sight of
himself in the glass. With a great shock of surprise he stood gazing at
the terrified, white face, with the staring eyes.

"What a fool I am!" he said, looking at himself in the glass. "Nobody
will know, and I'll pay this back soon."

His eyes wandered to a picture which stood on a little shelf beside the
glass. It was a picture of his mother, the one he loved best of all he
had ever seen of her.

There was a sudden stab of pain at his heart, his breath came in a great
sob. For a moment he looked into the eyes that looked back at him so
full of love and reproach.

"I won't do it," he said, grinding his teeth hard, and forthwith turned
to go to his father's study.

But as he left