speak; "let us ask God to give us all wisdom at this time."

George made a motion as if to go out.

"My son," called Mr. Hardy after him gently, "won't you stay with the
rest of us?"

George sat down with a shamefaced look, Alice and Clara came back, and
Mr. Hardy read that famous sixth chapter of Ephesians, beginning,
"Children, obey your parents in the Lord." Then in a brief but earnest
prayer he asked God's help and blessing on all the day, and rose to
face it, the great burden of his responsibility beginning to rest upon
him for the first time. He sat down for a moment by his wife and
kissed her, putting his arm about her, while Bess climbed up on the
side of the couch and the boys stood irresolute and wondering. Any
outward mark of affection was so unusual on the part of their father
that they felt awkward in the presence of it. Mrs. Hardy was almost
overcome.

"O Robert, I cannot bear it! Surely it was nothing more than a dream!
It couldn't have been anything more. You are not going to be called
away from us so soon."

"Mary, I would God that I had seven years to atone for my neglect and
selfishness towards you alone. But I am certain that God has granted
me but seven days. I must act. God help me! Boys, you will be late.
We will all be at home this evening. Alice, care for your mother and
cheer her up. You are a good girl, and----"

Again Mr. Hardy broke down as he thought of the many years he had
practically ignored this brave, strong, uncomplaining nature in his own
house, and remorse tore him fiercely as he recalled how he had
persistently discouraged all the poor girl's ambitious efforts to make
her way as an artist, not on account of the expense--for Mr. Hardy was
not a niggard in that respect--but because he had a false idea
concerning the profession. He looked at the girl now as she limped
across the floor to her mother, her pale, intellectual face brightened
by her love, and her eyes shining with tears at her father's unusual
praise. "O God," was the inner cry of Mr. Hardy's heart, "what have I
not neglected when I had it in my power to create so much happiness!"

The thought almost unnerved him; and for a moment he felt like sitting
down to do nothing. But only for a moment. He rose briskly, went out
into the hall and put on his overcoat, and, coming back a moment, said,
"I am going down to see poor Scoville the first thing. I shall be so
busy you must not look for me at lunch.