r school, and been sent to another, Jim, where you will
not be likely to meet him soon again," answered Milly.
"And they say it's an awful strict school, Miss Milly, a kind of a
bad-boy school, where a feller don't get half so much chance as he does
in ours."
"I think the discipline is very strict, Jim," replied his young
mistress.
"And," wistfully, "he was sent there because of what he done--I mean,
did--to Matty?"
Even in the midst of excitement, Jim was becoming careful to correct
himself when he lapsed inadvertently into any inaccuracies of speech.
Milly hesitated for a moment, but she thought that the lesson might
possibly point a moral, and she answered,--
"Yes, for that especially, Jim. It was his crowning offence; but
Theodore is not a good, upright boy, and it was thought better to
remove him to another and a stricter school."
"Thank you'm," said the lad as he walked away with a crestfallen air
which much surprised Milly. Was he going to take so much to heart the
absence of the boy between whom and himself there had waged a constant
state of warfare ever since they had first met? Amy must be right,
thought Milly, and there must be something behind these singular moods
of Jim's. Was it possible that he, too, had fallen into temptation and
sin, and, seeing with what consequences these had been fraught for
Theodore, was now trembling for himself? She could hardly believe this,
Jim had proved himself so frank and upright; but there must be
something which he was hiding, and this was the only solution at which
she could arrive.
But she was not kept much longer in doubt.
Jim slept over the matter upon his mind and conscience, and the next
morning, which happened to be Saturday, and therefore a holiday, came
to her, and requested a private interview.
The request was readily granted; and, taking him aside, Milly waited
with more anxiety than can well be appreciated by those who did not
know her interest in the boy.
"Miss Milly," he said, shifting uneasily from one foot to the other,
and twisting his hands nervously together as he stood before her, "Miss
Milly, I've got something I ought to tell you."
"Well, Jim?" said Milly encouragingly.
"I don' know what you're goin' to think of me, miss," he answered with
a very shamed face.
"If you have done wrong, Jim, and are ready to confess it now, I shall
not be very severe with you,--you know that, Jim," said Milly. "You
are in some trouble. I
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