"No, Edgar, I do not; but I want you to commence anew--give up all your bad associates--do justice to one that you have wronged." Edgar bowed his head upon his hands. "I wish that I were dead, Helen; I am too wretched!" "Edgar, can you not tell me something about the two hundred dollars that sent poor Roland away?" Edgar was silent; he groaned bitterly; and striking his head with anguish, he paced the floor in agony. "I can endure this no longer, Helen; I took that money; I was threatened by Jones with exposure, and I took it; how it has burned me ever since!" "Shall I tell our father, Edgar? it is better for all to come out." "Do what you please, Helen; I must have relief." Helen had a hard task to perform, but she was a true sister, and saw no other path by which Edgar could retrace his steps. Mr. Thornly was almost paralyzed--but reproach was not to be used towards a spirit so crushed as Edgar's; he was suffering enough of agony. His had been the error of a weak and yielding nature, furnished too abundantly the means of indulgence, rather than the deep duplicity of an accomplished villain. "Justice must be done to Roland," was the first response of Mr. Thornly. On the next morning, Roland's eye caught the following notice: "If Roland G. B----, will call at the office of Mr. Thornly, he will hear something important." "The day of deliverance," thought Roland; and, taking his hat, with a joyful step and overflowing heart, he made his way to Mr. Thornly's office. His former employer was seated at his desk. "I have proofs of your innocence, Roland, and I have sent for you to do you justice;" then, with a sadly grieved and humbled spirit, the father recounted the story in as few words as possible. "I knew that my innocence would be proved," answered the youth, "and I left my cause with God." "Had you any idea of the truth at that time, Roland?" "I had, sir; I saw Edgar's slipper near the door, and found his knife under the table, with which he had picked the lock. I saw his depression for days before, and I supposed that some debt was pressing heavily upon him, which he could not discharge." "And you bore all this quietly, gave up a promising situation, left a comfortable home, and went out upon the world friendless, homeless, without a character, rather than expose my son, or pain his father's heart. Truly, yours is conduct not often met with in this cold and selfish world." "It was my duty, sir; I could do nothing else; there were only suspicious circumstances, not actual proof." "And what have you been doing in the meanwhile?" "I could obtain no employment among lawyers, I have therefore been writing for the press; and been busy in establishing a home for friendless boys, like myself." "Do you mean the one in which Mark Grafton is interested?" "I do, sir; it has been a great blessing to me, for instead of dwelling upon my own griefs, I have been trying to lighten those of others, more oppressed than myself."