home!"

David had one thing to do with Philip Oswald before he went away. He
came to the station with a parcel which he wished him to take to his
little sisters, and to see him off. He was merry and good-humoured,
though he pretended to be dreadfully afraid of not being able to fill
David's place in the office to the satisfaction of Mr Caldwell.

"If Aunt Mary will ask me, I will come to Gourlay and spend some Sunday
with you," said he. "I have a settlement to make with Master Frank. I
did not think that he and Violet would have called me a dishonest
person, even to clear you. I am very angry with them both."

He did not look very angry, for he said it with laughing lips. But
David was shocked.

"Violet never thought that of you. She only said that--that--"

"Well! What did she say?" demanded Philip.

"She said it was quite impossible," went on David. "She said there was
no motive--I mean--She said you were foolish, and frivolous, and thought
first of your own pleasure--but--"

There was not time for another word, if David would not lose the train.
He was indignant with himself. Why could he not have kept silence for
two minutes longer? And yet, as he caught a glimpse of Philip's
astonished face as the train swept past him on the platform, he could
not help laughing a little, and hoping that the truth might do him good.
For it was true, and Philip did not hear unpleasant truths too often
for his welfare.

"At any rate, I am not going to vex myself about it now," said David.
And he was quite right.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN.

And were they not glad to see David in Gourlay? Almost always something
happens to mar, a little, the pleasure of a surprise that has been
planned beforehand; but nothing happened to mar David's. He travelled
to Gourlay in a late train; and as he went up the familiar road, and saw
the lights gleaming through the trees, as he had seen them so often in
the old days, a great many thoughts crowded upon him, and, if the truth
must be told, there were tears in his eyes and on his cheeks, too, when
he opened the door and went in among them.

They were all there. Even little Polly, by some happy chance, was up at
the unusual hour. Was there ever music so sweet, as the glad cry that
greeted him? There were tears on more cheeks than David's; but his
mother did not ask if his trouble was over; she knew by his face,--
though it was wet,--that he was at peace with himself, and troubles f