When George returned, he asked, "Have you directed the letter to Mr.
John Reid?"

"Yes, I have, and carried it to the office."

"Did you enclose that money to Mr. Reid, George?" asked his father,
when he next saw him.

"Yes, sir," George replied, with a slight hesitation, which,
however, he soon got over; "for," said he to himself, "I enclosed
the money carefully; what does it matter whether Frank or I directed
the letter?" So he spoke out freely to his father.

"All right, father; the letter is on its way to Ohio."

Unfortunately his father had not noticed his hesitation, was
satisfied, and asked no further questions.

Again George checked the monitions of his conscience. Again he said
to himself, "It's only a trifle." He had yet to learn that no duty
is a trifle.

Weeks passed, and there was no acknowledgment of the money. At last
a letter arrived from Mr. Reid to Mr. Pratt, requesting him, if
convenient, to pay the two hundred dollars promised to him some
weeks before.

Mr. Reid was a poor man, to whom two hundred dollars was an
important sum.