e me, spare me, O God!" Thus the
mother prayed, dry-eyed and almost despairing, while he for whom she
prayed that heart-broken prayer calculated, with growing coldness of
mind, the chances of getting more money from his father to use in drink
and at the gaming table.

O appetite, and thou spirit of gambling, ye are twin demons with whom
many a fair-browed young soul to-day is marching arm in arm down the
dread pavement of hell's vestibule, lined with grinning skeletons of
past victims! Yet men gravely discuss the probability of evil, and
think there is no special danger in a little speculation now and then.
Parents say, "Oh, _my_ boy wouldn't do such a thing!" But how many
know what their boy is really doing, and how many of the young men
would dare reveal to their mothers or fathers the places where they
have been, and the amusements they have tasted, and the things for
which they have spent their money?

Mr. Hardy went at once to his neighbours, the Caxtons, who lived only a
block away. He had not been on speaking terms with the family for some
time, and he dreaded the interview with the sensitiveness of a very
proud and stern-willed man. But two days had made a great change in
him. He was a new man in Christ Jesus; and as he rang the bell he
prayed for wisdom and humility.

James himself came to the door with his overcoat on and hat in hand,
evidently just ready to go down town. He started back at seeing Mr.
Hardy.

"Are you going down town? I will not come in then, but walk along with
you," said Mr. Hardy quietly.

So James came out, and the two walked along together. There was an
awkward pause for a minute, then Mr. Hardy said:

"James, is it true that you and Clara are engaged?"

"No, sir; that--is--not exactly what you might call engaged. We would
like to be." Mr. Hardy smiled in spite of himself; and James added in
a quickened tone: "We would like to be, with your consent, sir."

Mr. Hardy walked on thoughtfully, and then glanced at the young man at
his side. He was six feet tall, not very handsome, as Bessie had
frankly said, but he had a good face, a steady, clear blue eye, and a
resolute air, as of one who was willing to work hard to get what he
wanted. Mr. Hardy could not help contrasting him with his own
prematurely broken down son George, and he groaned inwardly as he
thought of the foolish pride that would bar the doors of his family to
a young man like James Caxton simply because h