He was still with Wake & Wade, though he was a salesman now, on a salary of five dollars a week. He still boarded with Mrs. Flint, though Edward was no longer his room-mate. A year had been sufficient to disgust his "fast" companion with the homely fare and homely quarters of his father's house; and, as his salary was now eight dollars a week, he occupied a room in the attic of a first-class hotel. Harry was sixteen years old, and he had three hundred dollars in the Savings Bank. He might have had more if he had not so carefully watched and guarded against the sin of avarice. He gave some very handsome sums to the various public charities, as well as expended them in relieving distress wherever it presented itself. It is true, it was sometimes very hard work to give of his earnings to relieve the poor; and if he had acted in conformity with the nature he had inherited, he might never have known that it was "more blessed to give than to receive." As he grew older, and the worth of money was more apparent, he was tempted to let the poor and the unfortunate take care of themselves; but the struggle of duty with parsimony rendered his gifts all the more worthy. Joe Flint had several times violated his solemn resolution to drink no more ardent spirits; but Harry, who was his friend and confidant, encouraged him, when he failed, to try again; and it was now nearly a year since he had been on a "spree." Our hero occasionally heard from Rockville; and a few months before the event we are about to narrate he had spent the pleasantest week of his life with Julia Bryant, amid those scenes which were so full of interest to both of them. As he walked through the woods where he had first met the "little angel"--she had now grown to be a tall girl--he could not but recall the events of that meeting. It was there that he first began to live, in the true sense of the word. It was there that he had been born into a new sphere of moral existence. Julia was still his friend, still his guiding star. Though the freedom of childish intimacy had been diminished, the same heart resided in each, and each felt the same interest in the other. The correspondence between them had been almost wholly suspended, perhaps by the interference of the "powers" at Rockville, and perhaps by the growing sense of the "fitness of things" in the parties. But they occasionally met, which amply compensated for the deprivations which propriety demanded. But I must pass on to the closing event of my story--it was Harry's severest trial, yet it resulted in his most signal triumph.