"Well, Doctor," said Carl, when he had grown more composed, "can we not
do one thing at a time? Can we not take the money and send it to the
owners, and suffer the other matter to rest at least for the present,
until we conclude how to manage it?"

"Carl," replied the doctor, as he pushed the package toward the young
man, "there is only one right way, and that is to become truly sorry for
wrongdoing, and cheerfully and bravely make retribution to all parties
you have injured. Anything short of this is not fair, and will do you no
good. If I take any hand in this matter, it must be to right the whole.
But, Carl, don't you see, you make no sacrifice in sending back the
money--money you have been unable to use? Had you been able to use it, it
might have been very different; it doubtless would have been. Its return
is not necessarily an evidence of either penitence or reform. It is
simply a confession of defeat. A coward can give up that which he cannot
use to his convenience. And is it possible, after all you have said about
being a living lie, is it possible that you are unwilling to pay any part
of the price of your unfortunate actions? Penitence is like charity. It
never counts cost. It is a godly sorrow for sin, and is willing to accept
results, be they ever so bitter."

"Doctor," said Carl, in complete surrender, "Let it be so. I am willing
to pay the price, even to death. I plead no more for my own sake, but I
would, if possible, save those who love me from humiliation and agony,
which to them would be more terrible than death."

"Here you mistake again," replied the doctor. "You imagine that your
father's pride is stronger than his love."