CHAPTER XIV.

"There, by the bed where parting life was laid, And sorrow, pain, and guilt, by turns dismayed, The reverend champion stood."

-THE DESERTED VILLAGE.

"How beautiful your presence, how benign, Servants of God! who not a thought will share With the vain world. "-WORDSWORTH.

It is so painful to dwell on evil-so sad to trace the rapid strides by which those who have entered into the path of sin, are hurried on to wretchedness and destruction, that I will not tell of all the falsehood and deceit into which, when informed by Mr. Murray of the result of his interview with his cousin, the wretched Leonard was lured and encouraged by the advice of his treacherous companion, Robert Felton; he succeeded but too

easily in persuading his father and mother, that in the present weak and suffering state of Arthur, when composure and quiet were said to be so necessary to his recovery, it would be cruel to urge the matter further. The holidays were so nearly at an end, they trusted that, if the matter were suffered to drop now, they should escape altogether, or be able, on their return to school, by threats or bribery, to persuade the man who had furnished them with the clothes, to say he had delivered them to Arthur, and with him they hoped all enquiries would cease. Many circumstances, too, were in their favour. Arthur had made himself unpopular among the boys by his conduct; and his friend Aubrey, who would have been likely to discover their treachery, and be zealous in the defence of his absent friend, was not to return to the school any more; he was going to Oxford. Their only apprehension was in the zeal and intelligence of Frank, who would certainly leave nothing undone, which could prove the innocence of his bro

ther; "but," Robert said, "he would trust to his usual good luck, which had helped him out of so many scrapes; and when they saw the day of their departure arrive, without any further enquiries being made, they "gloried in their shame," and triumphed in the success of their plans.

But we must return now to the Vicarage, and see why Mr. Greville had not followed up his intentions of enquiring further into the matter. The day following the conversation narrated in the former chapter, he had received a summons to attend the dying bed of a beloved and only sister. Having arranged with a clergyman, who was he knew at that moment unemployed, to come down to the Vicarage and carry on the duties of his parish during his absence, he took a melancholy leave of his affectionate and sympathising family, and departed for the house of mourning. His sister lingered some days longer than had been anticipated, and he did not return to his own home till he had performed the last office he could render;

and, in the solemn and affecting words of our church, committed her "body to the ground: earth to earth, ashes to ashes, dust to dust; in sure and certain hope of the resurrection to eternal life, through our Lord Jesus Christ." He remained also a day or two longer to assist his brother-in-law in some family arrangements; and when he at length returned to his home, Frank had gone back to school, and Leonard and Robert Felton also. He did not however delay a moment longer, and rode off to the Park to make the purposed communication with Mr. Murray. Here another disappointment met him, in the absence of Mr. Murray; but having ascertained the time at which he was expected to return, and appointed with Mrs. Murray a day when he should most probably find him disengaged, begging her to tell him that he was particularly anxious to see him, on a subject of importance, he resumed his usual routine of daily duties.

In the mean while poor Frank, no longer comforted and strengthened by the presence

of his brother, was suffering much, and had more than once been on the point of writing to his father to request to be removed. It was not that he was either tyrannised over or persecuted by any of the boys, for he was of too frank, and cheerful and happy a temper, not to have many friends, who endeavoured to cheer him; his grief was to find that Arthur was never mentioned by any one but in terms of condemnation, and he was sure that more must be meant than met his ear, and that slander had in some manner robbed him of the high and honourable estimation in which he had been held by his young companions, even when they were angry with him for not having consented to take a part in the play. Shrugs and whispers, and exclamations either of surprise or indignation, always followed the mention of his name; and knots of boys were collected sometimes talking loudly, when his name would reach the ear of Frank; and when, once or twice, he had demanded what it was they had to charge against his brother, he was told, "Oh it's