"Magistrates!--my boy?" exclaimed Mrs Lavington, wildly. "Oh, no, no,
no, brother; you will not proceed to such extremities as these. My boy
before the magistrates. Impossible!"

"The matter is out of my hands, now," said the old merchant, gravely.
"I was bound to charge that scoundrel labourer with the theft. I could
not tell that he would accuse your son of being the principal in the
crime."

"But you will stop it now for my sake, dear. Don, my boy, why do you
not speak, and beg your uncle's forgiveness?"

Don remained silent, with his brow wrinkled, his chin upon his breast,
and a stubborn look of anger in his eyes, as he stood with his hands in
his pockets, leaning back against his desk.

"Do you hear me, Don? Tell your uncle it is not true, and beg him to
help you clear yourself from this disgrace."

The lad made no reply, merely crossing his legs, and made his
shoe-buckles rasp together as he slowly moved his feet.

"Don!"

He looked up strangely, met his mother's earnest appealing gaze, and for
the moment his better nature prevailed; but as he looked from her to his
uncle, and saw the old man's grey eyes fixed upon him searchingly, a
feeling of obstinate anger swept over him again, and made him set his
teeth, as something seemed to whisper to him, "No; you told the truth,
and he would not believe you. Let him prove you guilty if he can!"

It was not the first time in history that a boy had stubbornly fought
against his better self, and allowed the worst part of his nature to
prevail.

"Do you not hear me, Don?" cried his mother. "Why do you not speak?"

Don remained silent, and Kitty, as she looked at him, angrily uttered an
impatient ejaculation.

"Don, my son, for my sake speak to your uncle. Do you not hear me?"

"Yes, mother."

"Then appeal to him to help you. Ask him to forgive you if you have
done wrong."

"And she believes me guilty, too," thought Don, as he scowled at his
feet.

"But you have not done wrong, my boy. I, your mother, will not believe
it of you."

Don's better self began to force down that side of his mental scale.

"You may have been weak and foolish, Don, but nothing worse."

The evil scale went down now in turn, and with it the foolish, ignorant
boy's heart sank low.

"Come, Don."

"I've nothing more to say, mother."

"Nothing more to say!" cried Mrs Lavington, wildly. "Oh, yes, yes, you
have much to say, my boy. Come, throw away this wilful pri