st how things
were; and then, too, you would not have been Dick's tempter, leading him
to sin. Still, there is a right and noble course open to you now, dear
boy, which is to go and undo the mischief and the wrong as far as you
can."
"Well, I suppose you are right, auntie," he said slowly, and with a
heavy sigh; "but I shan't find _my_ father throwing his arms round me as
George Washington's father did, and calling me his noble boy, and
telling me he had rather I told the truth than have a thousand gold and
silver cherry-trees."
"Perhaps not, Walter; but you will have, at any rate, the satisfaction
of doing what will have the approval of God, and of your own conscience,
and of the aunt who wants you to do the thing that is right."
"It shall be done," said her nephew, pressing his lips together and
knitting his brows by way of strengthening his resolution; and he left
the room with a reluctant step.
He found his father, who had just come from the stables, in the dining-
room. "Well, Walter, my boy," he said cheerily, "it isn't so bad with
Forester after all. He has got an ugly cut; but he doesn't walk but
very slightly lame. A week's rest will set him all right; but I shall
send that Dick about his business to-morrow, or as soon as his quarter's
up. I'd a better opinion of the boy."
"Dick's not to blame," said Walter slowly.
"Not to blame! How do you make out that? I'm sure, if he had had
Forester well in hand, the accident couldn't have happened."
Walter then gave his father the true version of the mishap, and
confessed his own wrong-doing in the matter. For a few moments Mr
Huntingdon looked utterly taken aback; then he walked up and down the
room, at first with wide and excited strides, and then more calmly. At
last he stopped, and, putting his hand on his son's shoulder, said,
"That's right, my boy. We won't say anything more about it this time;
but you mustn't do it again." The truth was, the squire was not sorry
to find that Dick, after all, was not the culprit; for he had a great
liking for the lad, who suited him excellently as groom, and had
received many kindnesses from him. No doubt he had told him an untruth
on the present occasion; but then, as he had done this to screen his
master's favourite son, Mr Huntingdon did not feel disposed to take him
to task severely for the deceit; and, as Walter had now made the only
amends in his power, his father was glad to withdraw Dick's dismissa
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