his cousin, who was a wicked, wasteful man, and who
would do nothing for the poor and suffering; and that, he said, was
what made it hardest for him to die. Next to that, was the thought of
leaving his mother; but she would soon come to him in heaven, and all
her grief be over--while the sorrows that his hard-hearted cousin might
cause his poor tenants, would last a long time.

When the young lord spoke so sweetly and nobly, there was always such a
holy light on his beautiful face that he seemed to have become already
one of God's blessed angels, and Robert was almost ready to worship
him. So great was the boy's reverence for his goodness, not for his
_title_, that when Evremond asked him to call him "Arthur," instead of
"my lord," he gently shook his head, and said: "I would rather not."

After a few weeks had gone by, Robert noticed that his noble friend
seemed to be getting still weaker and paler. He talked more and more
earnestly and tenderly of heaven, of his papa and angel sister, and
seemed to feel yet more loving pity for all the poor and suffering. He
now seldom rode faster than a walk, his voice grew faint, he rested his
hand wearily on Robert's shoulder, and fell languidly into his arms,
when he dismounted.

At last he failed to keep his engagement at the heath. Day after day,
a whole week went by, and still he did not come, and poor Robert was
almost heart-broken with disappointment and anxiety. At length, to his
great joy, he saw the well-known carriage coming! Alas, it was empty!
The footman brought a message from Lady Evremond--her son had been
taken alarmingly ill, the night after his last ride--he had been
failing ever since, and now it was thought he could not live many
hours. The carriage was sent for his friend Robert, whom he wished to
see before he died.

Robert sent home his donkey by a friend, and sprang into the carriage,
where he buried his face in his hands and wept all the way to Grosvenor
Square.

He was conducted into a great hall, up a noble staircase, through
several elegant rooms, filled with beautiful and costly things, strange
enough to poor Robert, but his eyes were too full of tears and his
heart of grief to notice them. A chamber door was opened softly before
him, and Robert saw his friend lying on a couch by the window, with his
head resting in his mother's lap. His eyes were closed, and his face
so deathly pale that Robert thought he had come too late, and
stagger