d, retiring from the room, took up
his hat and left the house--the relation between him and his father
by no means in a better position than it was before. Within a few
minutes of ten o'clock the boy returned, and, being admitted, went
up to his room without joining the family.

On the next morning, one or two of the daily papers contained an
account of Andrew's arrest, with his father's name and all the
particulars of the transaction. Any one reading this account, with
the reporter's comment, could not help but believe that Andrew was a
desperate bad boy, and undoubtedly guilty in design of incendiarism.

"See what a disgrace you have brought upon us!" exclaimed Mr.
Howland, flinging a paper, containing this mortifying intelligence
in the face of his son.

The boy took up the paper, and read the paragraph referred to with a
burning cheek. He made no remark, but sat for some time in a state
of profound abstraction. No one guessed the thoughts that were
passing through his mind, nor the utter hopelessness that was lying,
with a heavy weight, upon his spirit. Before him was the image of
Emily. She had seen him with his blood-disfigured face, in the hands
of the watchman; and now she would see this slanderous story, and
what was worse, believe it!

Some two hours subsequently, while walking along the street, Andrew
perceived Emily, within a few paces of him. He looked her steadily
in the face, and saw that she saw him; for a quick flush overspread
her countenance. But, averting her eyes, she passed him without a
further sign of recognition.

At night-fall, the boy did not return to his home.

Anxiously did the time pass with Mrs. Howland until ten o'clock, and
yet he was away. Eleven--twelve--one o'clock, pealed on the ear of
the watching mother, but he came not. It was all in vain that her
husband remonstrated with her. His words passed her unheeded; and
she remained waiting and watching, until near the hour of morning,
but her waiting and watching were all in vain.

Two days passed--yet there came no tidings of the absent boy. On the
third day, Mrs. Howland received the following letter:--

"MY DEAR MOTHER:--I have left my home--forever! What is to become of
me, I do not know. But I can remain with you no longer. Father
treats me like a dog--or worse than a dog; and he has never treated
me much better. I have tried to do right a great many times; but it
was of no use. The harder I tried to do right, the more