ET

oe Ee ee eee

112 THE CHERRY STONES.

sorrow had nothing of real repentance in
it. He would have given much to undo
what he had done; but he felt even less
inclination than before, to take the only
course his conscience approved. He clung
to the hope that all would yet go well;
and that, by to-morrow, he should have
forgotten all about the matter; above all,
he trusted that no more cherry-stones
would make their appearance. In order
to secure this, as much as possible, he felt
carefully in all his pockets, and satisfied
himself that now, at least, there were
none concealed about his person.

This gave him some comfort; and when
he joined his schoolfellows in the supper-
room, he had recovered his composure,
and chatted and laughed with them as
usual. Nay, their sprightly conversation
seemed to have banished all his disquiet-