"Have you never even heard any tidings of Horace Cleeve, Miriam ?"

"I read his name, seven years ago, in the list of those who were ordained. And that is all-he has gone utterly out of my reach."

"Not while you can pray for him. Shall we ever know how much our lives are influenced by each other's prayers? Perhaps we shall some day, when we learn what God has written in His 'book of remembrance.""

They left the quiet lane and the quaint little houses behind, and entered the more populous thoroughfares of Alderport, for the Waynes lived within the town. But Miriam was lifted up and strengthened, and the words that had been spoken in season were never forgotten.

CHAPTER VIII.

A TALK WITH WILLIE.

"MUST you go out, Aunt Emily?”

"Yes, Lawrence, I am afraid I must. I am so sorry for you to have a lonely afternoon, dear old boy."

"Never mind, aunty. You are so jolly, you know, that a fellow can't bear you out of his sight. But that's awfully selfish."

"I will ask Ada to come and sit here; shall I?" "Yes; I wish she would readTom Brown' to me. It's not easy to turn the pages when one's arms are so stiff with bruises. And my head does get a little giddy sometimes, aunty. When I doze I often wake with a start; I'm for ever feeling that rotten old bough giving way, and then comes the fall, over and over again."

"Well, dear Lawrence, it was a great shock.

And you are beginning to find out that boys have nerves, although nobody would think so in the ordinary course of things."

"That's the queerest part of it. When Charlie comes stamping and whistling along the passage I get an odd sort of throbbing all over me. And when Ned is doing his railway scream-like the engine, you know-it seems to pierce me through and through."

"Charlie and Ned won't whistle and scream when they know you can't bear it.”

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Oh, I'll try to bear it, aunty. It would be hard on them to make them creep about the house, just for my sake."

"No, Lawrence, it will not be hard on them. Sometimes I really think it is good for great strong boys to have an invalid in the house; it teaches them consideration for others a lesson they are rather slow in learning."

Mrs. Hurst went downstairs into the sittingroom in search of Ada. Her niece was seated in the doctor's arm-chair, thoroughly absorbed in a novel, and did not even lift her eyes from

its pages.

"My dear," began Aunt Emily, with a slight hesitation, "I fear I must ask you to take my place with Lawrence. You know I am obliged to go out this afternoon. He wants you to read 'Tom Brown' to him."

It is not a good sign when our friends are afraid to ask for our services. Mrs. Hurst had been certain of the kind of reply she should receive, and this made her unwilling to prefer her request.

"Oh, aunty, what a very great nuisance! I thought I had earned a little relaxation. Nearly all the morning was taken up in making babyclothes for Mrs. Wayne's poor women, and now I have just settled myself comfortably."

"I am very sorry, Ada; but it really would not be right to leave Lawrence alone."

Miss Fenway rose slowly, and gave a long sigh. The boredom was inevitable, and she must submit to it, but she would not comfort Aunt Emily by a single gracious word or look. She carried her clouded face out of the sitting-room, and toiled as languidly up the staircase as if it had been a mountain. Unwillingness was visible in every feature as she entered her brother's chamber.

"Oh, Ada, is that you?" said Lawrence, speaking before he caught sight of her. "Do come and read Tom Brown,' that's a good girl. I want to forget that I'm one great bruise. Begin at the football-match, when Tom East gave that glorious kick."

"I wonder you are not dreadfully tired of this book, Lawrence. You must know it by heart."

Lawrence turned his head, slowly and painfully, and took a glance at his sister's face. It was pretty enough to have been a sunbeam in a sickroom if its owner had not made it as unattractive as possible. All the ugliness that can be attained by knitting the brows, and by giving undue prominence to the lower lip, was there. The boy had a boy's natural, wholesome admiration for a pretty face, and he was vexed to see one spoiled. "You look as if you thought me a regular bore," he said, with a sigh.

Ada took up "Tom Brown" with a resigned air, and hunted out the football-match. But she read it exactly as she had been wont to repeat a few pages of Dr. Brewer's "Guide to Science" in her school-days. All the flavour was extracted.