"THE LIGHT THAT LIES" During the summer Sandy worked faithfully to make amends for his failure to win the scholarship.

He had meekly accepted the torrent of abuse which Mrs.Hollis poured forth, and the open disapproval shown by the Meeches; he had winced under Martha's unspoken reproaches, and groaned over the judge's quiet disappointment.
"You see, my boy," the judge said one day when they were alone, "I had set my heart on taking you into the office after next year.

I had counted on the scholarship to put you through your last year at the academy." "It was the fool I was," cried Sandy, in deep contrition, "but if ye'll trust me the one time more, may I die in me traces if I ever stir out of them!" So sincere was his desire to make amends that he asked to read law with the judge in the evenings after his work was done.

Nothing could have pleased the judge more; he sat with his back to the lamp and his feet on the window-sill, expounding polemics to his heart's desire.
Sandy sat in the shadow and whittled.

Sometimes he did not listen at all, but when he did, it was with an intensity of attention, an utter absorption in the subject, that carried him straight to the heart of the matter.