and Bert for the first time spoke to his
friend of the possibility of his never getting well again.

"I am very ill, Frank, dear," said he, reaching over to lay his burning
hand upon Frank's knee, as the latter sat close beside his bed. "I may
never be any better."

"Oh, yes, you will!" returned Frank, cheerfully. "You'll come round all
right."

"I hope so, Frank, but sometimes as I lie here in the middle of the
night, it seems as though it would soon be all over with me."

"Never fear, Bert, you'll live to be an old man yet, see if you don't."

Bert was silent for a while as if thinking just how he would say
something that was on his mind. Then turning to Frank, and, looking
earnestly into his face, he asked:

"Frank, do you love Jesus?"

Frank started at the question, the blood mounted to his forehead, and
his head dropped. He seemed reluctant to reply, and it was some time
before he answered, almost in a whisper:

"I'm afraid I don't, Bert."

A look of sorrow came over Bert's countenance, but was quickly
dissipated by one of hope, and despite the pain the utterance of every
word gave him he took Frank's hand between both of his, and pressing it
affectionately, said:

"Dear, dear Frank, you will love Him, won't you?"

Frank's sturdy frame trembled with the emotion he strove hard to
suppress; his lips quivered so that he could not have spoken if he
would, and at length, unable to control himself any longer, he fell on
his knees at the bedside, and burying his face in his hands burst into
tears.

The ineffable glory of the sun setting into the golden haze of the west
filled the room, and enfolded the figures of the two boys, the one
kneeling at the bedside, and the other with eyes lifted heavenward, and
lips moving in earnest prayer, touching softly the brown curls half
buried in the bed beside him. For some minutes there was a solemn
silence. Then Bert spoke:

"Frank, Frank," he called, gently.

Frank lifted his tear-stained face.

"Won't you begin to love Him now?" Bert asked. "If God should take me
away, I could not be happy unless I felt sure that you would meet me
above. We've been such friends, Frank, and you've been so good to me
always."

[Illustration: "'Frank, Frank,' he called gently. Frank lifted his
tear-stained face."--_Page_ 320.]

Frank's tears flowed afresh. It was not the first time that the question
of surrender to Christ had presented itself to him. He had debated it
with him