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drive, mother and daughter seemed to have
changed places, and it was Hester who decided
what clothing must be taken by the
travelers. Hester, who arranged and packed,
meantime persuaded her father and mother
to lie down and get what rest they might.
Then when it came time to rise, this
daughter, who seemed to have grown into
a woman in one night, dressed the poor
grief-striken mother almost as one would
a child, and coaxed her to drink a cup of
tea and eat a little, lest she should be ill
on the journey. "You know, mother," she
said, "you must keep up your strength so
that you can help to nurse Percy when you
get there." During the twelve-mile drive,
and through the long day and night on the
train, little was said by our travelers, the
mother half-stunned by her grief, and ill
from the unwonted journey; the father grief-
stricken, too, for his love for his eldest
son was deep and real; but with the
thought forcing itself in upon him that he
had not done what he ought. He had never
felt so helpless as when the terrible message
came to him the night before, and with the
thought of his helplessness had come the
thought of God's power, but that did not
bring him comfort; for how, thought he, can
I ask God to spare my son, how can
I ask any favor from a God that I never
acknowledged, that I am not in touch with?
Through the long, weary hours on the train
this man passed through the bitterest experience
of his life. At length they reached the
journey's end. A carriage was waiting to
convey them to the house where their son

8

lay. A servant met them at the door, and
in answer to their inquiries said she would
bring to them Doctor Allan, who had been
with the patient all night. He came, a great
friend of their son as they knew from his
name, and going straight up to them and
taking a hand of each in turn, said, "You
are Percy's father and mother. I wish from
the bottom of my heart that I could give
you good news of him, but I cannot. I do
not say that there is no hope; but I can see
little. The fever has left him, but he has
lain in a sort of stupor nearly all the time
for two days. We give him a little nourishment
at intervals, but he scarcely rouses even
then. Oh, yes; we have had the best advice
possible- Dr. W., from the city, a specialist
in this disease. We are acting under his
orders. The next twenty-four hours will
decide it one way or another. You see, he
has been working too hard. I warned him
often but he always laughed and said, 'Oh.
I am all right, Allan; you know I must work
hard to catch up again,' meaning, of course,
to make up his losses at the time of the
fire."

Again there came a pang to the father's
heart as he thought of the help he might have
given and spared his boy that severe strain.
"I think you may look in at him if you are
sure you will not make any sound. He will
not notice you." Silently they both followed
the doctor into the room, gave one look at
the dear, white, changed face lying on the
pillow, and went out again. After trying to
partake of the refreshment provided for them
they wandered out, scarcely knowing what

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