CHAPTER II.

GRIEF OVER YOUNG LIARS.

MR. SAUNDERS was a moral man, strictly honorable in his dealings with his fellow-men. He would have scorned the idea of cheating his patrons, or any one with whom he had to do; because such conduct was, in his opinion, mean and low. For a liar, he had the greatest contempt. Imagine, then, his horror when he found that neither of his daughters had the slightest regard for truth.

On one occasion he brought home a valuable book of engravings, lent him by a friend. For a few days, he was so much occupied, he had no time to examine it; but when he did, he found almost every page marred by marks of dirty fingers. Mortified and chagrined, he called, first, Alice and then Ellen, and holding up the volume, demanded an explanation. They both denied having touched the book, or even having seen it, and looked in his face, as they repeated the assertion, with such unblushing effrontery, he could not believe them to be the guilty ones.

A few days later, he met a young man at the bookstore who was on intimate terms in his family. Mr. Saunders was about purchasing a duplicate of the volume which had been so mysteriously injured, when the other remarked,—

"I told Ellen it was dangerous to handle a valuable book while eating fruit."

"What do you mean?" inquired the gentleman, a bright flush spreading all over his face. "Did you see Ellen with a book like this?"

The young man laughed.

"I had no idea I was telling tales," he said; "but I happened in one day when you were not at home. The girls were earnest in their admiration of the engravings, and in her zeal, Ellen pulled it from her sister, though her hands were half full of fruit. Ask them; they will tell you about it."

The father opened his pocket-book, laid down the price of the volume, and walked out of the store without another word. Perhaps in all the years since his wife died, he had never so forcibly realized the responsibility which rested upon him as he did during that short walk. What adepts in lying his daughters must have become, when they could so entirely deceive him! His boy, too,—there was no knowing how soon he would follow their example. Before he reached his own steps, his eyes seemed for the first time open to the fact that Aunt Clarissa, however excellent a housekeeper, was not equal to the moral training of his children.

On entering the house, he sent for his daughters, and was deeply pained to see how readily they reiterated the falsehood, and, even when he convinced them he was aware of the fact that they had deceived him, how little shame they exhibited at the detection. Indeed, they did not feel that they had committed a grave offence, nor realize that not only had they deceived a kind, indulgent parent, but had violated one of God's holy commands, "Lie not one to another."

A sharp pang shot through the heart of Mr. Saunders, as he remembered how entirely he had neglected to teach his children their accountability to God. After a few words to them, expressing his horror of their crime, he dismissed them abruptly, and passed the next hour in forming resolutions for the future. He realized, for the first time,—because circumstances had not heretofore brought the subject before him,—that if they went on as they were now going, with no counter-influences to check their impulses, they would be ruined. Something must be done, and that at once, to change their whole course of conduct.

If Mr. Saunders had been a Christian father, he would have reasoned differently. He would have said, "My children are by nature sinful; the seeds of corruption have begun to take root, and must be exterminated. The grace of God and the constant instructions of his holy word alone can do this. I will give them line upon line, and precept upon precept, and pray for God's blessing upon the result."

But, as it was, he saw the evil, yet was puzzled as to the cure. That night but little sleep came to his pillow, and the morning dawned with only one advance upon the doubts of the preceding day, and that was a resolve to consult a friend, who had several daughters of her own, as to the course he had better pursue.

Mrs. Peters was a woman of the world. It was her ambition that her children should excel and shine in society. She therefore was unwearied in her devotion to what she considered their best interests. She would have thought it a sin to omit one of their studies, or to remit an hour of their daily penance of sitting with their feet in the stocks, with their arms tightly braced back to give grace and vigor to their frames. They were to be outwardly polished and beautiful; but she had not given a thought to the fashioning of their souls in the image of their Saviour. She condoled with Mr. Saunders, as to the state of perplexity in which he found himself, and advised him at once to send Alice to a fashionable boarding school, where she would be taught every accomplishment, and where, of course, she would soon learn that lying and all those things were very low and unladylike.

Though not entirely convinced by her reasoning, Mr. Saunders determined to follow her advice, and in less than a month, Alice became a member of Mrs. Lerow's celebrated school for young ladies, where for the present we shall leave her.

Now that his attention had once been directed to the subject, the gentleman watched closely his other daughter, and was pained to perceive that, with many fine traits, she was growing up not only a liar, but passionate and self-willed. It was evident she needed a firm, careful hand to direct her physical and moral training for a few years.

Mrs. Saunders's sister was married and lived fifty miles in the country. It had been her habit; ever since her sister's death, to visit her brother-in-law once in a few years; and just at this time, she wrote announcing her intention of spending a week in the city. The gentleman was intensely relieved.

"She is just the person," he said to himself, "to have the charge of Ellen. I wonder it did not occur to me before. It will be the saving of the child, if her aunt will consent to take her."

Mrs. Collins had not been in the house many days, before she agreed with her brother that his children needed a mother's careful, judicious management. Ellen, ardent, impulsive as she was, had always been her favorite; but she was deeply grieved to see how entirely the child was wanting in moral and religious principle.

When Mr. Saunders first mentioned his wish of sending his daughter home with her to remain for an indefinite period, she shrank from so great a responsibility; but after making it a subject of prayer and direction from her Father in heaven, she thought here was an opportunity to do good which ought not to be neglected, even though it involved great personal sacrifices.

There were some conditions, however, which she insisted upon as essential to the well-being of Ellen. She should be entirely under her aunt's influence, not even visiting home until her present habits of deceit were so far eradicated that she would not be likely to return to them; and that Mr. Saunders would co-operate with her in everything she considered essential for the good of the child.

Ellen, herself, was in raptures at the proposed change. Mrs. Collins prolonged her visit another week, in order that the necessary preparations might be completed, and as, in the mean time, she accompanied the lady on her shopping expeditions, and in many instances had her own taste consulted in the choice of her dress, she expressed herself as more happy than she had ever been in her life.