nescliffe what
clothes he ought to have for the naval school, and all the time he
was writing the letter, he was drawing sailors' buttons on his
blotting-paper. I wonder how ever it got into Mr. Harrison's book!"

Poor Mary's honest wits did not jump to a conclusion quite so fast as
other people's, and she little knew what she was doing when, as a great
discovery, she exclaimed, "I know! Harry gave his paper-case to Tom.
That's the way it got to school!"

"Tom!" exclaimed his father, suddenly and angrily, "where are you
going?"

"To bed," muttered the miserable Tom, twisting his hands. A dead silence
of consternation fell on all the room. Mary gazed from one to the other,
mystified at the effect of her words, frightened at her father's loud
voice, and at Tom's trembling confusion. The stillness lasted for
some moments, and was first broken by Flora, as if she had caught at
a probability. "Some one might have used the first blotting-paper that
came to hand."

"Come here, Tom," said the doctor, in a voice not loud, but trembling
with anxiety; then laying his hand on his shoulder, "Look in my face."
Tom hung his head, and his father put his hand under his chin, and
raised the pale terrified face. "Don't be afraid to tell us the meaning
of this. If any of your friends have done it, we will keep your secret.
Look up, and speak out. How did your blotting-paper come there?"

Tom had been attempting his former system of silent sullenness, but
there was anger at Mary, and fear of his father to agitate him, and in
his impatient despair at thus being held and questioned, he burst out
into a violent fit of crying.

"I can't have you roaring here to distress Margaret," said Dr. May.
"Come into the study with me."

But Tom, who seemed fairly out of himself, would not stir, and a
screaming and kicking scene took place, before he was carried into the
study by his brothers, and there left with his father. Mary, meantime,
dreadfully alarmed, and perceiving that, in some way, she was the cause,
had thrown herself upon Margaret, sobbing inconsolably, as she begged to
know what was the matter, and why papa was angry with Tom--had she made
him so?

Margaret caressed and soothed her to the best of her ability, trying
to persuade her that, if Tom had done wrong, it was better for him it
should be known, and assuring her that no one could think her unkind,
nor a tell-tale; then dismissing her to bed, and Mary was not unwilling
to go,