A happy thought struck him. He would go and explain the source of his trouble to Mr. Rose, his oldest, his kindest, his wisest friend. To him he could speak without scruple and without reserve, and from him he knew that he would receive nothing but the noblest advice and the warmest sympathy. He went to him after prayers that night, and told his story. “Ah, Eric, Eric!” said Mr. Rose; “you see, my boy, that sin and punishment are twins.” “O but, sir, I was just striving so hard to amend, and it seems cruel that I should receive at once so sad a check.” “There is only one way that I see, Eric. You must write home for the money, and confess the truth to them honestly, as you have to me.” It was a hard course for Eric’s proud and loving heart to write and tell his aunt the full extent of his guilt. But he did it faithfully, extenuating nothing, and entreating her, as she loved him, to send the money by return of post. It came, and with it a letter full of deep and gentle affection. Mrs. Trevor knew her nephew’s character, and did not add by reproaches to the bitterness which she perceived he had endured; she simply sent him the money, and told him, that in spite of his many failures, “she still had perfect confidence in the true heart of her dear boy.” Touched by the affection which all seemed to be showing him, it became more and more the passionate craving of Eric’s soul to be worthy of that love. But it is far, far harder to recover a lost path than to keep in the right one all along; and by one more terrible fall, the poor erring boy was to be taught for the last time the fearful strength of temptation, and the only source in earth and heaven from which deliverance can come. Theoretically he knew it, but as yet not practically. Great as his trials had been, and deeply as he had suffered, it was God’s will that he should pass through a yet fiercer flame ere he could be purified from pride and passion and self-confidence, and led to the cross of a suffering Saviour, there to fling himself down in heart-rending humility, and cast his great load of cares and sins upon Him who cared for him through all his wanderings, and was leading him back through thorny places to the green pastures and still waters, where at last he might have rest. The money came, and walking off straight to the Jolly Herring, he dashed it down on the table before Billy, and imperiously bade him write a receipt. The man did so, but with so unmistakable an air of cunning and triumph that Eric was both astonished and dismayed. Could the miscreant have any further plot against him? At first he fancied that Billy might attempt to extort money by a threat of telling Dr. Rowlands; but this supposition he banished as unlikely since it might expose Billy himself to very unpleasant consequences. Eric snatched the receipt, and said contemptuously, “Never come near me again; next time you come up to the studies I’ll tell Carter to turn you out.”