"My times are in thy hand,
Why should I doubt or fear?
My Father's hand will never cause
His child a needless tear."

So he was comforted in the thought that it was for his good; but he
couldn't see how. He resolved to bear it manfully, conscious of his
innocence, and trusting in God that he would vindicate his honor.

He went home and told his mother all that had happened. He was surprised
to find that it did not shock her, as he supposed it would.

"I know you are innocent, Paul," she said, kissing him. "I am not
surprised at what has happened. You are the victim of a conspiracy. I
have been expecting that something would befall you, for you have been
highly prospered, and prosperity brings enemies. It will all come out
right in the end." Thus his mother soothed him, and tried to lift the
great weight from his heart.

He was innocent, but half of the community thought him guilty. "He did
it,--he did it,"--said Miss Dobb to all her neighbors. What should he
do? How could he establish his innocence? How remove all suspicion?
Ought he to resign his position as leader of the choir? or should he
retain it? But the committee of the society settled that. "After what
has happened, you will see the propriety of giving up your position as
leader of the choir," said they. "Also your class in the Sunday-school,"
said the Superintendent.

O, how crushing it was! He was an outcast,--a vile, miserable wretch,--a
hypocrite,--a mean, good-for-nothing fellow,--a scoundrel,--a thief,--a
robber,--in the estimation of those who had respected him. They did not
speak to him on the street. Colonel Dare, who usually had a pleasant
word, did not notice him. He met Daphne Dare, but she crossed the street
to avoid him. How terrible the days! How horrible the nights! He tossed
and tumbled, and turned upon his bed. There was a fire in his bones. His
flesh was hot. His brain was like a smouldering furnace. If he dropped
off to sleep, it was but for a moment, and he awoke with a start, to
feel the heat burning up his soul with its slow, consuming flame.

At evening twilight he wandered by the river-side to cool his fever,
dipping his hand into the stream and bathing his brow. He stood upon the
bridge and looked over the railing into the surging waters. A horrible
thought came over him. Why not jump in and let the swollen current bear
him away? What use was it to live, with his g