"He hasn't come yet," was answered.

"Not come yet?" said Mr. Abercrombie, in a fretful tone.

"No, sir."

"This is the third time he has been late within the past week, is it
not?"

"Yes, sir."

"Very well: it shall be the last time."

At this moment the boy came in. Mr. Abercrombie looked at him
sternly for a moment, and then said--

"You won't suit me, sir. I took you on trial, and am satisfied. You
can go home."

The poor lad's face crimsoned instantly, and he tried to say
something about his mother's being sick, but Mr. Abercrombie waved
his hand impatiently, and told him that he didn't wish to hear any
excuse.

Scarcely had the boy left the presence of Mr. Abercrombie, ere this
hasty action was repented of. But the merchant's pride of
consistency was strong: he was not the man to acknowledge an error.
His word had passed, and could not be recalled. Deeper were the
shadows that now fell upon his heart--more fretted the state of mind