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Believe me,
I feel no anger, only pity for you. Come to me and confess, and I
promise, by every means in my power, to befriend and save you."
This note he read, and then, stamping on the floor, tore it up furiously
into twenty pieces, which he scattered about the room.
Another was from Mr. Rose;
"Dear Eric--I _cannot, will_ not, believe you guilty, although
appearances look very black. You have many faults, but I feel sure that
I cannot be mistaken in supposing you too noble-minded for a revenge so
petty and so mean. Come to me, dear boy, if I can help you in any way. I
_trust you_, Eric, and will use every endeavor to right you in the
general estimation. You are innocent; pray to God for help under this
cruel trial, and be sure that your character will yet be
cleared.--Affectionately yours, WALTER ROSE."
"_P.S._--I can easily understand that just now you will like quiet; come
and sit with me in the library as much as you like."
He read this note two or three times with grateful emotion, and at that
moment would have died for Mr.


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