hine of his pure, warm heart. Why are you so
silent, Noll?"

The boy could not trust himself to speak, and Trafford suddenly saw
that there were tears shining in his eyes. Noll felt his uncle's hand
laid upon his head, and the stern voice said, with all the tenderness
of which it was capable,--

"It's a hard life for you, Noll. I can see,--I know it."

"No, no!" said the boy, quickly, "it's not that, Uncle Richard! I was
only thinking of--of papa,--that was all."

"What about him?" queried Trafford; "I never knew that you mourned
before."

"Why," said Noll, chokingly, "papa told me so much,--so much that he
wished me to do and be,--and it all came to me just then, as if he
were saying it over again."

"What did he wish you to do and be?" Trafford quietly asked.

"He said that--that I should find Christ's work to do wherever I might
be, and that I must do his work and follow him wherever I should go;
and--and I'm a long way from that, Uncle Richard; though," Noll added,
turning his face away from the shining firelight, "I do try to do it,
and not forget him nor his work."

Again Trafford's hand was laid upon the boy's head, this time to
stroke his curly locks away from his eyes, where the wind had blown
them.

"Did he tell you aught of me?" he asked, presently.

"No,--only that if you ever found me, or I you, that I was to be your
boy. Papa said you would care for me."

"He believed in me still! He trusted me!" said Trafford. "Alas! he
knew not what a father I should make his child."

Noll slipped off the chair arm, saying, "Don't say that again, Uncle
Richard. Papa trusted you,--so do I. And, if you please, will you go
out to supper? Hagar called a long time ago. Come, Uncle Richard,
don't look so gloomy! Papa smiled even when--when he was saying
good-by to me."

The instant these words escaped Noll's lips he half regretted them. He
had never before allowed his uncle to know that he thought him sad and
gloomy, and he was not quite sure that the careless word would strike
agreeably upon his ears. But Trafford only said,--

"Yes, Noll, I know. We will go out to supper," and rose from the chair
and followed after his nephew.

The boy did his best to make the meal a cheery one, thinking to
himself that this, as much as anything, was a part of the work which
papa wished him to do; and, observing his efforts, Trafford endeavored
to keep pace with his nephew's cheerful talk. No