at, but no one believes. Do--do ask him
to send me away."

There was a long silence here, as, for the first time, in spite of a
hard fight, Dexter could not keep back his tears.

The silence was broken by Helen, who took his hand, and said gently--

"I believe you, Dexter. I am sure you would not tell a lie."

In an instant his arms were round her neck, and he was clinging to her
unable to speak, but his eyes, his convulsed face, telling the doctor's
daughter that she was right.

That evening, feeling very strange and terribly depressed, Dexter had
gone to his old bedroom, thinking it must be for the last time, and
wondering how Mr Sibery would treat him.

Helen had sat talking to him for quite a couple of hours, winning from
him a complete account of his adventures, and in return relating to him
how concerned every one had been on the discovery of his evasion, and
how bitterly the doctor had been mortified on learning later on that the
boat had been taken. Who were the culprits was known in the course of
the day, with the result that, acting on the suggestion already alluded
to, the doctor had gone down to the mouth of the river to wait the
coming of the borrowers of the boat.

Helen had exacted no promises from Dexter. He had made none, but sat
there with her, his hand in hers, wondering and puzzled how it was that
he could have run away, but the more he thought, the more puzzled he
grew.

"Well," said the doctor that evening, as he sat with his daughter, "I
told Danby that I was more determined than ever; that it was only a
boyish escapade which he must look over to oblige me, and he agreed
after making a great many bones about it. But I feel very doubtful,
Helen, and I may as well confess it to you."

"Doubtful?" she said.

"Yes, my dear. I could have forgiven everything if the boy had been
frank and honest--if he had owned to his fault in a straightforward way;
but when he sought to hide his own fault by trying to throw it on
another, I couldn't help feeling disgusted."

"But, papa--"

"Let me finish, my dear. I know what you are about to say. Woman-like,
you are going to take his part. It will not do. The lying and deceit
are such ugly blemishes in the boy's character that I am out of heart."

"Indeed, papa?" said Helen, smiling. "Ah, it's all very well for you to
laugh at me because I have failed over my hobby; but I feel I'm right
all the same, and I tell you that his ignorance, vulgar