on fire?"

"I didn't believe it for a moment, Andrew," replied Mrs. Howland.
"But, oh! isn't it dreadful?"

"I'm not to blame, mother," said the weeping boy. "I didn't mean to
stay out later than ten. But I was deceived in the time. I was a
good way off when the clock struck, and I ran home as fast as I
could. I'm sure it wasn't ten minutes after when I rang the bell.
But nobody would let me in; not even _you_, mother--and I thought so
hard of _that!_"

With what a pang did these last words go through the heart of Mrs.
Howland.

"I wanted to let you in," replied the mother, "but your father said
that I must not do so."

"And so you left me to sleep in the streets," said the boy, with
much bitterness. "I couldn't have turned a dog off in that way!"

"Don't, don't speak so, Andrew! You will break my heart!" returned
the mother, sobbing, "I did open the door for you, but you were not
there."

"I knocked and rung a good while."

"I know. But I had to wait until your father was asleep. Then I went
down, but it was too late."

"Yes--yes, it was too late," said Andrew, speaking now in a firmer
voice. "And it is too late now. I am to be tried as a felon, and it
may be, will be sent to the State Prison. Oh, dear!"

And he covered his face with his hands, and sobbed.

What little comfort she had to offer her unhappy child, was offered
by Mrs. Howland. But few rays of light came through the heavy clouds
that enveloped both of their hearts.

At dinner time, Andrew declined meeting his father at the table.

"Go and tell him," said the unyielding man, when the servant, who
had been sent to his room to call him to dinner, came back and said
that he did not wish to come down, "that he cannot have a mouthful
to eat unless he comes to the table."

"No, no, Andrew--don't say that!" quickly spoke Mrs. Howland.

"I do say it, and I mean it," replied Mr. Howland, fixing his eyes
rebukingly upon his wife.

Mrs. Howland answered nothing. But her purpose to stand between her
unrelenting husband and wandering son, was none the less fixed; and
in her countenance Mr. Howland read this distinctly. Accordingly, so
soon as the latter had left the house, she took food to Andrew, who
still remained in his room, at the same time that she expressed to
him her earnest wish that he would meet the family at the tea-table
in the evening.

"I don't want to meet father," he replied to this. "He will only
frown upon me."

"He is, of co