And how did he spend those hours of guilty solitude? in terrors? in
remorse? in misery? Not he: Julian was too wise to sit and think, and in
the dark too; but he lit both reading lamps to keep away the gloom, and
smoked and drank till morning's dawn to stupify his conscience.

Then, to make it seem all right, he went down to breakfast as usual,
though any thing but sober, and met unflinchingly his mother's natural
question--

"Good morning, Julian--where's Charles?"

"How should I know, mother; isn't he up yet?"

"No, my dear; and what is more, I doubt if he came home last night."

"Hollo, Master Charles! pretty doings these, Mr. Sabbath-teacher! so he
slept out, eh, mother?"

"I don't know--but where did you leave him, Julian?"

"Who! I? did I go out with him? Oh! yes, now I recollect: let's see, we
strolled together midway to Oxton, and, as he was going somewhat
further, there I left him?"

How true the words, and yet how terribly false their meaning!

"Dear me, that's very odd--isn't it, general?"

"Not at all, ma'am--not at all; leave the lad alone, he'll be back by
dinner-time: I didn't think the boy had so much spirit."