father put his arm round me and drew me to him.

"That we are God's children, little brother," he answered, "that what He
wills for us is best. It may be life, it may be sleep; it will be best.
I cannot think that He will let us die: that were to think of Him as
without purpose. But His uses may not be our desires. We must trust Him.
'Though He slay me yet will I trust in Him.'"

We walked awhile in silence before my father spoke again.

"'Now abideth these three, Faith, Hope and Charity'--you remember
the verse--Faith in God's goodness to us, Hope that our dreams may
be fulfiled. But these concern but ourselves--the greatest of all is
Charity."

Out of the night-shrouded human hive beneath our feet shone here and
there a point of light.

"Be kind, that is all it means," continued my father. "Often we do what
we think right, and evil comes of it, and out of evil comes good. We
cannot understand--maybe the old laws we have misread. But the new Law,
that we love one another--all creatures He has made; that is so clear.
And if it be that we are here together only for a little while, Paul,
the future dark, how much the greater need have we of one another."

I looked up into my father's face, and the peace that shone from it slid
into my soul and gave me strength.

CHAPTER IX.

OF THE FASHIONING OF PAUL.

Loves of my youth, whither are ye vanished? Tubby of the golden locks;
Langley of the dented nose; Shamus stout of heart but faint of limb,
easy enough to "down," but utterly impossible to make to cry: "I give
you best;" Neal the thin; and Dicky, "dicky Dick" the fat; Ballett of
the weeping eye; Beau Bunnie lord of many ties, who always fought in
black kid gloves; all ye others, ye whose names I cannot recollect,
though I well remember ye were very dear to me, whither are ye vanished,
where haunt your creeping ghosts? Had one told me then there would come
a day I should never see again your merry faces, never hear your wild,
shrill whoop of greeting, never feel again the warm clasp of your inky
fingers, never fight again nor quarrel with you, never hate you, never
love you, could I then have borne the thought, I wonder?

Once, methinks, not long ago, I saw you, Tubby, you with whom so often
I discovered the North Pole, probed the problem of the sources of the
Nile, (Have you forgotten, Tubby, our secret camping ground beside the
lonely waters of the Regent's Park canal, where discussing our frugal
meal of t