'Pawliney,' piped her father in his shrill voice, 'where's Lemuel? I told him to take the horse to the forge, and hoe the potatoes, and weed the onions, and go to the woods for a load. I don't see how I'm to get through with such a lot of heedless boys around. What hev you done with him? You just spoil them all with your cossetin'.' 'It will all come right, father,' said Pauline soothingly. 'Lemuel has gone away for awhile.' 'Away!' echoed the old man suspiciously. 'Away, Pawliney? Did you know he was going?' 'Yes, father; he will be back by-and-by, and Stephen will be home next week.' She paced her room that night with a heavy heart. There was no way to hinder the misguided boy. Before Stephen could follow him he would be on the sea. He had often declared he meant to be a sailor. Suddenly she stopped, thunder-struck. The lid of her strong box had been forced open! With an awful dread at her heart she lifted it and looked in. The money was gone! With a bitter cry she fell upon her knees. 'A thief!' Her Lemuel. The boy that she had borne with and prayed over all these years! And the money was due in a month! What should she do? Stephen must never know--Stephen, with his stalwart honesty and upright soul. His anger would be terrible, and she must shield Lemuel all she could. Poor Lemuel! All night long she pondered sorrowfully. When the morning came she went to Deacon Croaker. 'I hear you are behindhand with your wool,' she said, in her straightforward way. 'I will spin it for you if you like, and, Deacon, may I ask you as a favour to let me have the money in advance?' The deacon looked at her curiously. 'Hard up, air ye, Pawliney? Well, well, don't colour up so, we all hev our scarce times. I ain't partial to payin' forehanded, but you was awful kind to Mis' Croaker when her rheumatiz was bad on her, an' I ain't one ter forgit a favour. Cum in, Pawliney, while I git the money. Mis' Croaker will be rale pleased; she thinks you're the best spinner in the valley.' 'No, thank you, I will wait out here.' The old man hobbled into the house, and she stood waiting, clothed in her sorrow and shame. 'So Lemuel's ben an' tuk French leave?' he said, as he handed her the money. 'Well, well, I allers did say that boy'd be a heart break tew ye, Pawliney. Well, what's gone's forgot. Don't fret over him, Pawliney, he was a bad lot, a bad lot. Ye'er well rid of him, my dear.' 'I never shall forget him,' Pauline said gravely, 'and he can't get away from God, Deacon Croaker.' She counted the bills as she hurried along. It would just make enough, with the butter money. That was all she had for clothes for herself and Polly--but Polly had enough for a while, and she could go without.