meanwhile began seriously to think what was to become of
him hereafter. At last it occurred to him that he might employ him in
some way or other about his property; and with a view to this,
Theodore himself began to take more interest in his estate than he had
had the energy to bestow before, and made himself more intimately
acquainted with the wants and modes of life of those under his
control.

Thus another year passed away in quiet but constant occupation; and
the many opportunities Theodore now had of doing good, softened and
cheered his mind. But he was not quite cured. For of all things in the
world whims are the very hardest to cure, because, reason as you will,
people still stick to their whims. Reuben was not allowed to return
once during that year to the old hall. During the last few months,
however, his progress had been most satisfactory, and the Master
considered that the evil was overcome; and so, at the end of the year,
Theodore wrote word to Reuben that he wished him to come "home" for
his holidays. Poor Reuben cried bitterly again when he read the
letter; for, as he said to the Master, "It is _not_ my home, though he
has been very good to me. I have no home!"

Theodore's heart overflowed with pleasure and almost pride when he saw
the boy again. Every turn in the expression of his face was improved;
and when Theodore first took his hand, the lad bent his face over it
and sobbed out an entreaty for pardon for his dreadful wickedness.
"Reuben," cried Theodore, "never say that again. All is forgotten
since your conduct is changed. Forget the past as soon as possible. It
will never be remembered by me."

Time went on during the holidays very happily on the whole. In fact
there was no drawback; but that now and then Theodore, who would often
sit looking at his adopted child's face, noticed a painful expression
which he could not account for. His conduct was irreproachable and his
respect for Theodore seemed, if possible, increased; but he would not
be frank with him, and no encouragement beguiled him into the ease of
trusted affection. Theodore did not choose to notice this for some
weeks, but, as the time of Reuben's return to school drew near, he was
unwilling to let him go without some expostulation.

"Reuben," said he one day, "you are going back to school. Your conduct
has quite satisfied me: but tell me, before you go, why you so often
look unhappy? It is a poor return (though I now touch on this su