ood name gone, and all the
future a blank? He banished the thought. He would live on and trust in
God.

He heard a step upon the bridge, and, looking up, beheld Azalia. She had
been out gathering the faded leaves of autumn, and late-blossoming
flowers, in the woods beyond the river. "Will she speak to me?" was the
question which rose in his mind. His heart stood still in that moment of
suspense. She came towards him, held out her hand, and said, "Good
evening, Paul."

"Then you do not turn away from me?"

"No, Paul, I don't believe that you are a thief."

Tears came to his eyes as he took her proffered hand,--tears which
welled up from his heart and which saved it from bursting. "O Azalia, if
you had turned from me, I should have died! I have suffered terrible
agony, but I can live now. I am innocent."

"I believe you, Paul, and I shall still be as I have been, your friend.
There is my pledge," she said, setting down her basket, and putting a
frost-flower into a button-hole of his threadbare coat. Then, to make
him forget that the world was looking coldly upon him, she showed him
the flowers she had gathered, and the gorgeous maple leaves,--scarlet,
orange, purple, and crimson, and talked of their marvellous beauty. And
when, with a smile, she said "Good night," and went tripping homeward,
his heart was so full of gratitude that he could not utter his thanks.
He could only say in his heart, "God bless her." It was as if he had met
an angel in the way, and had been blessed. He stood there while the
twilight deepened, and felt his heart grow strong again. He went home.
His mother saw by the deep-settled determination on his face, by his
calmness, and by his sad smile, that he was not utterly broken down and
overwhelmed by the trouble which, like a wave of the sea, had rolled
upon him.

"There is one who does not pass me by; Azalia is still a friend," he
said.

"There are several whom you may count upon as being still your friends,"
she replied.

"Who are they, mother?"

"God and the angels, my son."

So she comforted him, telling him that the best way to put down a lie
was to live it down, and that the time would surely come when his honor
and integrity would be vindicated.

When they kneeled together to offer their evening prayer, and when his
mother asked that the affliction might work out for him an eternal
weight of glory, he resolved that he would, with God's help, live down
the lie, and wait patientl