hard indeed must have been his heart, if he had
not from that moment resolved to forsake his evil ways, and by his
future good conduct endeavoured to atone for his past sins and follies.

CHAPTER VII.

When Earnest came down to breakfast the next morning, neither Mr. or
Mrs. Humphrey made any allusion to the situation in which he had been
brought home the previous evening. They treated him with their usual
kindness, but it was evident, by his subdued manner and downcast
countenance, that he felt sensible of his shame and degradation. They
intended to talk with him of the matter, but deferred it for the
present. Mr. Humphrey advised his wife to give him the package herself,
as it was to her care it had been committed. Soon after breakfast was
over, he went up to his room, whither Mrs. Humphrey soon repaired with
the package in her hand. Earnest opened the door when she rapped for
admission. He looked somewhat embarrassed, and seemed by his manner to
expect she had visited his room for the purpose of talking to him of the
event of the last evening. She made no mention of the circumstance, but
seating herself by his side, addressed him, saying--

"My dear Earnest, you have often told me that you retain a distinct
recollection of your mother. I have never before told you that, previous
to her death, she consigned a sealed package to my care, directed to you
with her own hand, with the request that I should give it to you on your
fourteenth birthday. The time has now arrived, and by giving you this
package I fulfil what was a dying request of your mother." As she
concluded, she placed the package in his hand, and immediately left the
room, thinking he would prefer being left alone to open the package.

When some time had passed, and Earnest did not come down, Mr. Humphrey
went upstairs, and softly opened the door of his room. He found the boy
with his face bowed upon his hands, weeping bitterly. He approached him,
and gently placing his hand upon his shoulder, enquired the cause of his
grief.

He replied, in a voice choked with sobs,--

"Oh! I have been so wicked--so--bad--I know not what will become of me.
It is well that my mother did not live to see how widely I have strayed
from the path in which it was her last hope and prayer that I should
walk."

Mr. Humphrey endeavoured to comfort the poor boy, wisely thinking this
to be no time to reproach him for past errors.

Mrs. Humphrey, thinking that something