Miss
Goldthwaite, you don't know how I want to go on drawing and painting.
I feel as if I could die sometimes because I can't."

"When the time comes, dear; and it will come sooner, perhaps, than
you think," said Miss Carrie hopefully. "You will prize it all the
more because of this sharp discipline. Do your duty like a man, and
believe me, God will reward you for it one day."

"I will try, Miss Goldthwaite," said Tom with a new great earnestness
of face and voice.

"Now," said Miss Carrie then, with a quick, bright smile, "I'm going
to send you home. I don't mean to tell my brother anything about your
visit. Our talk is to be a secret. He would be so grieved that you
have come to grief again through that tongue of yours. And I hope it
will be a long time before its master loses hold of the bridle
again." She went with him to the kitchen and helped him to dress, and
then opened the door for him. "Now, Tom, you are to go home and tell
your aunt you are sorry for what happened this afternoon; because you
should not have spoken as you did. And remember, Tom, that a
soldier's first duty is obedience." And without giving him a chance
to demur, she nodded good-bye and ran into the house.

It was raining heavily still, but that Tom did not mind; he was
wondering how to frame his apology to his aunt, and how she would
receive it.

It was dark when he reached Thankful Rest, and the kitchen door was
barred. He knocked twice, and was answered at last by Aunt Hepsy, who
looked visibly relieved. Feeling that if he waited till he was in the
light his courage would flee, he said hurriedly,--

"I've been to the parsonage, Aunt Hepsy, and I want to tell you I'm
sorry I drew the picture and spoke to you as I did. If you'll forgive
me this time I won't be so rude again."

Aunt Hepsy looked slightly amazed. "Dear me, boy, I am thankful to
see ye home again; ye've gev Lucy a fever almost. See an' don't do it
again, that's all." And that was all Tom ever heard about the
afternoon's explosion.

VII.

THE RED HOUSE.

Judge Keane's place was a mile out of Pendlepoint. It was in the
opposite direction from Thankful Rest, and stood within its own
extensive grounds, at the base of the Peak. The house was built a
little way up the slope, and commanded a magnificent view of the
great plain and the river, whose silver thread was visible long after
all other objects receded from view. You have made the acquaintance
of the judge alr