a stranger to keen emotion, that
he fled from before it with a sense of dread.

The wife came back to her husband's bedside. He looked into her
face and said, faintly:

"The lad hath yet a warm heart."

"I have always felt that," she answered quickly. "But oh, my
husband, why send him forth to the perils of war?"

"In the hope that the stern discipline of a soldier's life may fit
him for the duties which will be his at home. The lad needs above
all things to learn to obey. Till he has mastered the lesson of
submission, he can never be fit to hold the reins of government.
That lesson he will learn most quickly in the life of the camp.
There he will be no great man, but an overgrown boy to be taught
and drilled. Young Tom needs to find his own level. That is what he
never will do at home. He has lorded it over the neighbourhood too
long already."

"But if he leaves us and goes forth into the world, who will care
for his immortal soul?" asked the mother, with tears in her eyes.

"Has he listened to our words of admonition and warning at home?"
asked the Squire, with a strange look in his glazing eyes. "Nay,
wife, I feel as I lie here dying, that the life of the soul is
something we poor frail human creatures must not try too much to
touch. The Spirit of God will work in His own time. We may pray and
weep and plead before God for an erring son, and we believe our
prayers will be answered; but it will be in His time, not in our
own. And time and place are no barriers with Him. He will do for
Tom, I will not doubt it, what we have failed to do with all our
pains and care."

The mother wept silently--for the husband whose life was ebbing
away; for the son over whose heart she seemed to have so little
control; for herself, soon to be left alone in the world, with only
her daughter for her prop and stay. She was not a weak or helpless
creature. She had been in her husband's confidence, and had been
his helpmeet throughout their married life. She was well able to
carry on single-handed the course of action he had pursued through
his long rule at Gablehurst; yet not the less for this did she feel
the desolation of her approaching widowhood; and it seemed an
additional sorrow (although she recognized its necessity) that Tom
was also to be taken from her.

A mother's love for her only son is a very sacred and compelling
thing. Tom had not been a comfort or support to his parents; he was
likely, if he remained, to be a so