would break.
The servant of the gentleman who had purchased the house came and locked
the door, so Charles could not get in any more, and he sat down on the
stone steps, and covered his face with his hands, and cried bitterly.

'Unhappy child that I am,' sobbed he; 'what will become of me? Oh, if I
had but been good like Clara, I should have found a friend, as she has;
but no one cares what becomes of me, because I have been so wicked. I
used to despise the poor, and God, to punish me, has made me poor
indeed.'

It was very cold, and the snow began to fall fast, and it grew quite
dark. Charles rested his head on his knees, and was afraid to look
round; his clothes were almost wet through, and his limbs were benumbed
with cold; he had no place where he could ask shelter, for no one loved
him; and he thought he should be obliged to stay there all night, and
perhaps be frozen to death.

Just then someone softly touched his hand, and said: 'Master Charles, I
have been looking for you for more than an hour.'

Charles looked up; but when he saw it was Giles Bloomfield who had come
to seek him in his distress, he remembered how ill he had behaved to
him, so he hid his face, and began to weep afresh.

Then Giles sat down by him on the steps, and said: 'Dear Master Charles,
you must not stay here. See how fast it snows. You will catch your death
of cold.'

'Yes, I am very cold and hungry,' sobbed Charles, 'but I have no home
now; I have nowhere else to go, and must stay here all night.'

'No, Master Charles,' said Giles, 'you shall come home with me, and
shall share my supper and my bed, though it is not such as you have been
used to; notwithstanding we are very poor, we will do our best to make
you comfortable.'

'Oh, Giles!' said Charles, throwing his arms round Giles's neck, 'I do
not deserve this kindness; I have been such a proud, wicked boy, and
have treated you so ill. I am sure you can never forgive me for having
taken your pretty Snowball; and if _you_ forgive me, I can never
forgive myself.'

'Dear Master Charles, do not think of that now,' said Giles, taking both
Charles's cold hands in his. 'Indeed, Master Charles, I should never
dare say my prayers if I was so wicked as to bear malice; and, now you
are in distress, I would do anything in my power to serve you. So pray
come home with me, and warm yourself, and get some supper.'

But Charles hid his face on Giles's bosom, and cried the more; at last
he s