After the story was ended there was silence for a few moments. Benny would liked to have spoken, but his heart was too full—to think that the shadow was lifted from his life at last! He wished he could have been alone for a few moments, that he might out of the fulness of his heart have thanked God.

"What a pity," said Mrs. Munroe at length, "that the boy could not be found."

Then Benny got up, and said in a voice tremulous with emotion, "I must go now, please; but before I go I would like to say that I am the lost boy."

"You!" they all said in chorus.

"Yes. I cannot say more now." And he sat down again, and hid his face in his hands.

"How strange!" said Eva; "but I see it all now. I could not think who you reminded me of; but you have strangely altered."

"Yes, I suppose I have," he said huskily; "and yet, perhaps, not more than you have."

"How thankful pa will be!" she said, not heeding his last remark. "I will write and tell him to-morrow."

"Well," said Mr. Munroe, speaking at length, "if this is not the strangest ending to a story that I ever came across!"

"It's as good as a novel," said Miss Munroe. "I declare it would make a capital tale."

"And your father is satisfied that I am honest now?" said Benny, going towards Eva.

"Yes; but I don't think that he ever really believed you were dishonest."

"And you never doubted my honesty?"

"No, never."

That was all that passed between them.

When he had gone Mr. Munroe remarked, "A wonderful young man that; I never in my life met with a more remarkable case. How the young fellow has managed to bear up and fight the world as he has is beyond my comprehension."

"And he has the bearing of a gentleman too," remarked Miss Munroe. "I expected we were going to be highly amused at his behaviour and his dialect, and so on; but really he speaks quite correctly."

"He always was a well-behaved boy," remarked Eva; "and during the time he was in pa's office he told one of the clerks that he was very anxious to speak correctly."

"He must have worked very hard, however," said Mr. Munroe; "and a lad with such application, pluck, and determination is sure to get on. I confess I shall watch his future career with great interest."

"But what surprises me most," said Mrs. Munroe, "is the sterling honesty that seems always to have characterized him. As a rule, those street Arabs have the crudest notions of right and wrong."