must take him away."

The doctor took the boy away, and he had a very stern talking-to at
home.

Two months passed away.

"There, Helen," said the doctor one morning; "what do you say to him
now? Wonderfully improved, has he not? Good natural boy's colour in
his cheeks--better blood, you see, and nice curly hair. Really he is
not like the same."

"No, papa; he is greatly changed," said Helen, as she followed the
direction of her father's eyes to where Dexter was out on the lawn
watching old Dan'l, while old Dan'l, in a furtive manner, was diligently
watching him in return.

"Greatly changed," said the doctor thoughtfully, as he scratched the
side of his nose with his penholder, "in personal appearance. Sir James
seems very sore still about that little affair. Says I ought to have
thrashed Dexter, for he behaved brutally to young Edgar."

"And what did you say, papa?"

"Well, not exactly all I thought. Dreadful young limb that Edgar.
Spoiled boy, but I could not tell Danby so with such a catalogue of
offences as Master Dexter has to show on my black list. You see, Helen,
we do not get any further with him."

Helen shook her head sadly.

"There's something wrong in his brain; or something wanting. He'll
promise amendment one hour, and go and commit the same fault the very
next."

"It is very sad," replied Helen thoughtfully; "but I'm sure he means
well."

"Yes, my dear; of course," said the doctor, looking perplexed; "but it's
a great drawback to one's success. But there: we must persevere. It
seems to me that the first thing to do is to wean him from that terrible
love of low companions."

"Say companion," said Helen, smiling.

"Well, a companion, then. I wish we could get that young fishing
scoundrel sent away; but of course one cannot do that. Oh, by the way,
what about Maria? Is she going away?"

"No," said Helen. "I had a long talk to her about her unreasoning
dislike to Dexter, and she has consented to stay."

"Well, it's very kind of her," said the doctor testily. "I suppose Mrs
Millett will be giving warning next."

"Oh no," said Helen; "she finds a good deal of fault, but I think, on
the whole, she feels kindly toward the poor boy."

"Don't!" cried the doctor, giving the writing-table so angry a slap with
his open hand that a jet of ink shot out of the stand and made half a
dozen great splashes. "Now, look there, what you've made me do," he
continued, as he began hastily to