A LADY-LIKE RECREATION

Too Long; Didn't Read

“It is one thing to be ashamed and another to be really repentant,” said Cyrus, judicially. “It is almost as if he lacked responsibility and moral sense. So far as I know he hasn’t expressed the least penitence for what he has done.” “It is very hard for some boys to say in so many words that they are sorry; you know that yourself, Cyrus,” I said, with my usual lack of tact—for Cyrus had never been one to “own up” or show his penitence openly, when caught in a boyish prank. But one could say this for Cyrus, he was never guilty of many boyish pranks. “Dave always owned up, but, perhaps, he did take things rather lightly; it’s some people’s nature,” I added, lamely. No one ever put me at such a disadvantage as my own brother Cyrus. “It’s an unfortunate nature—to be able to do serious wrong and take it lightly,” said Cyrus. Which was an undeniable proposition. Estelle’s answer to such was the persistent denial that Dave was ever guilty of the wrong-doing with which he was charged. There was some dreadful mistake, Estelle repeated, and I will admit, that in the face of the very strong proofs, this seemed to me provokingly childish. The letter from the President of the college to Uncle Horace, Dave’s guardian, had been a dreadful arraignment. Dave had not only gone off to the horse-races at Newmarket, twenty miles away from the college, but he had pretended to be absent because he was caring for his cousin who was ill at his boarding-place not far from the college. The boy had been very ill and Dave had neglected him and left him to the care of strangers, not even causing word to be sent home until his return from the races. He had borrowed money to pay his debts, having first forged a check upon his uncle, and, becoming alarmed, secured its return by the payment of cash before it was presented for payment.