brother. Ed was almost as dear to him,
and the thought that he was suffering destroyed Jack's pleasure for
a little while. But, fortunately, young people do not know how to be
anxious very long, so our boy soon cheered up, thinking about the late
match between the Stars and the Lincolns, and after a good rest went
whistling home, with a handful of mint for Mrs. Pecq, and played games
with Jill as merrily as if there was no such thing as care in the world.

Next day Ed was worse, and for a week the answer was the same, when Jack
crept to the back door with his eager question.

Others came also, for the dear boy lying upstairs had friends
everywhere, and older neighbors thought of him even more anxiously and
tenderly than his mates. It was not fever, but some swifter trouble, for
when Saturday night came, Ed had gone home to a longer and more peaceful
Sabbath than any he had ever known in this world.

Jack had been there in the afternoon, and a kind message had come down
to him that his friend was not suffering so much, and he had gone away,
hoping, in his boyish ignorance, that all danger was over. An hour later
he was reading in the parlor, having no heart for play, when Frank came
in with a look upon his face which would have prepared Jack for the news
if he had seen it. But he did not look up, and Frank found it so hard to
speak, that he lingered a moment at the piano, as he often did when
he came home. It stood open, and on the rack was the "Jolly Brothers'
Galop," which he had been learning to play with Ed. Big boy as he was,
the sudden thought that never again would they sit shoulder to shoulder,
thundering the marches or singing the songs both liked so well, made his
eyes fill as he laid away the music, and shut the instrument, feeling as
if he never wanted to touch it again. Then he went and sat down beside
Jack with an arm round his neck, trying to steady his voice by a natural
question before he told the heavy news.

"What are you reading, Jacky?"

The unusual caress, the very gentle tone, made Jack look up, and the
minute he saw Frank's face he knew the truth.

"Is Ed----?" he could not say the hard word, and Frank could only answer
by a nod as he winked fast, for the tears would come. Jack said no more,
but as the book dropped from his knee he hid his face in the sofa-pillow
and lay quite still, not crying, but trying to make it seem true that
his dear Ed had gone away for ever. He could not do it, and p