ve lived to Thee no more,
No more obeyed Thy word."

--"Hymns for Sunday-Schools"

At last he fell asleep, and oh! to wake; from that sleep! It was surely
good to be afflicted, and in the happiness of his mind Louis forgot his
trouble. But he had yet to endure much more, and the bitterest part of
his punishment came the next morning, when, according to his master's
orders, he repaired to the study with his books. He had been desired to
remain in this room out of school-hours, and was forbidden to speak
to any of his school-fellows without leave. While he was sitting
there the first morning after the inquiry related in this chapter,
Dr. Wilkinson entered with a letter, and sat down at the table where
Louis was reading. As he opened his desk, he said, "I have a painful
task to perform. This is a letter from your father, Louis Mortimer,
and he particularly requests that I should give him an account of
your conduct and your brother's; you know what an account I can give
of you both."

Louis had listened very attentively to his master's speech, and when
it was concluded he gave way to such a burst of sorrow as quite touched
the doctor. For some minutes he wept almost frantically, and then
clasping his hands, he implored Dr. Wilkinson not to tell his father
what had happened: "It will break mamma's heart, it will break mamma's
heart, sir--do not tell my father."

"Confess your fault, Louis, and I may then speak of amendment,"
said the doctor.

"I cannot, indeed--indeed I cannot. It will all come out by and bye:
you will see, sir--oh! you will see, sir," sobbed Louis, deprecating
the gathering of the angry cloud on the doctor's face. "Oh! do not
tell mamma, for it is not true."

"I do not wish to hear any more, sir," said the doctor, sternly.

"Oh! what shall I do--what shall I do!" cried Louis; and he pushed
his chair quickly from the table, and, throwing himself on his knees
by Dr. Wilkinson, seized the hand that was beginning to date the
dreaded letter--"I assure you I did not, sir--I am speaking the truth."

"As you always do, doubtless," said the doctor, drawing his hand
roughly away. "Get up, sir; kneel to Him you have so deeply offended,
but not to me."

Louis rose, but stood still in the same place. "Will you hear only this
one thing, sir? I will not say any thing more about my innocence--just
hear me, if you please, sir."

Dr. Wilkinson turned his head coldly towards him.