le."
Combing his hair suddenly with the fingers of his left hand, and leaning
back in a floating position, he watched the smoke-rings, curling above
his head, and fell into a reverie on Natural Philosophy. He was
interrupted by the entrance of Arthur Hazleton, the young doctor.

"I called for the new work on Chemistry, which I lent you some time
since," said Arthur. "Is it perfectly convenient for you to let me have
it now?"

"I am very sorry," replied the master, "I left it in the school-room, in
my desk."

His desk! yes! and he had left something else there too.

"I will go and get it," he cried, starting up, suddenly, his face
reddening to his temples. "I will get it, and carry it over to you."

"No, give me the key of the school-house, and I will spare you the
trouble. It is on my homeward way."

"I _must_ go myself," he replied, cloaking himself with wonderful
celerity, and taking a lantern from the shelf. "You can wait here, till
I return."

"No such thing," said Arthur. "Why should I wait here, when I might be
so far on my way home?"

The master saw that it was in vain to conceal from him the incarceration
of little Helen, an act for which he felt sorry and ashamed; but
thinking she might still be asleep, and that he might abstract the book
without the young doctor being aware of her presence, he strode on in
silence, with a speed almost superhuman.

"You forget what tremendous long limbs you have," exclaimed the young
doctor, breathless, and laughing, "or you would have more mercy on your
less gifted brethren."

"Yes--yes--I do forget," cried his excited companion, unconsciously
betraying his secret, "as that poor little creature knows, to her cost."

"I may as well tell you all about it," he added, answering Arthur's look
of surprise and curiosity, seen by the lantern's gleam--"since I
couldn't keep it to myself."

He then related the punishment he had inflicted on Helen, and how he had
left her, forgotten and alone.

The benevolent heart of the young doctor was not only pained, but
alarmed by the recital. He feared for the effects of this long
imprisonment on a child so exquisitely sensitive and timid.

"You don't know the child," said he, hastening his pace, till even the
master's long strides did not sweep more rapidly over the snowy ground.
"You have made a fatal experiment. I should not be surprised if you made
her a maniac or an idiot."

"Heaven forbid!" cried the conscience-stricken t