h a thoughtful air--

"I think you 've made a mistake in the change, Mr. Levering."

"I presume not, ma'am. I gave you four and thirty-five," was the
quick reply.

"Four, thirty-five," said the lady, musingly.

"Yes, here is just four, thirty-five."

"That's right; yes, that's right," Mr. Levering spoke, somewhat
nervously.

"The article came to six dollars and sixty-five cents, I believe?"

"Yes, yes; that was it!"

"Then three dollars and thirty-five cents will be my right change,"
said the lady, placing a small gold coin on the counter. "You gave
me too much."

The customer turned away and retired from the store, leaving that
dollar still on the conscience of Mr. Levering.

"I'll throw it into the street," said he to himself, impatiently.
"Or give it to the first beggar that comes along."

But conscience whispered that the dollar wasn't his, either to give
away or to throw away. Such prodigality, or impulsive benevolence,
would be at the expense of another, and this could not mend the
matter.

"This is all squeamishness," said Mr. Levering trying to argue
against his convictions. But it was of no avail. His convictions
remained as clear and rebuking as ever.

The next day was the Sabbath, and Mr. Levering went to church, as
usual, with his family. Scarcely had he taken a seat in his pew,
when, on raising his eyes, they rested on the countenance of the
lady from whom he had abstracted the dollar. How quickly his cheek
flushed! How troubled became, instantly, the beatings of his heart!
Unhappy Mr. Levering! He could not make the usual responses that
day, in the services; and when the congregation joined in the
swelling hymn of praise, his voice was heard not in the general
thanksgiving. Scarcely a word of the eloquent sermon reached his
ears, except something about "dishonest dealing;" he was too deeply
engaged in discussing the question, whether or no he should get rid
of the troublesome dollar by dropping it into the contribution box,
at the close of the morning service, to listen to the words of the
preacher. This question was not settled when the box came round,
but, as a kind of desperate alternative, he cast the money into the
treasury.

For a short time, Mr. Levering felt considerable relief of mind. But
this disposition of the money proved only a temporary palliative.
There was a pressure on his feelings; still a weight on his
conscience that gradually became heavier. Poor man! What was he t