will try," she promised faintly, and then burst into a passion of
heart-broken sobs.

A month later, when in the country the hedges were full of primroses
and violets, and pure little daisies, Charlie took the last steps of
his painful journey, and reached the "rest" for which he craved.

It was on a Saturday that his brief journey through this life ended,
and on the Sunday those whom he had loved--his mother, and Jessie,
Miss Patch and Tom Salter--gathered in the little bare, quiet
bedroom, with him in the midst of them once more, but so silent now,
so very quiet and still.

"I am sure he is with us in spirit, the darling," said Miss Patch
softly, as she looked at the worn little face, so peaceful now, and
free from the drawn lines of pain they had worn hitherto; and, while
they all knelt around his bed, she said a few simple prayers, such as
went straight to their sad hearts, and sowed the germs, at least, of
comfort there; and while they still knelt, thinking their own sad
thoughts, her sweet voice broke softly into song.

"Sleep on, beloved, sleep and take thy rest.
Lay down thy head upon thy Saviour's breast,
We love thee well, but Jesus loves thee best--
Good-night!"

The others knelt, rapt, breathless, afraid to move lest they should
break the spell and the sweet singing, or lose one of the beautiful
words. Through the whole exquisite hymn she continued until the last
verse was reached--

"Until we meet again before His throne,
Clothed in the spotless robes He gives His own,
Until we know, even as we are known;--
Good-night!"

Voice and words died away together. Then one by one they rose and,
bending over him, kissed him fondly.

"Good-night, little Charlie, 'good-night,' not 'good-bye.'"

CHAPTER XI.

TOO LATE.

When Harry Lang was told that Charlie was dead, he looked shocked for
the moment, then, having remarked glibly that "it was all for the
best," and "at any rate he wouldn't suffer any more," he told Jessie
to make haste and get him some food, and became absorbed in making
his own plans for his own comfort.

He hated trouble, and sadness, and discomfort of others' making, and
he made up his mind at once to go away out of it for a time, and not
return until the funeral, at any rate, was over. So at the end of
his meal he announced to Jessie that he had to go away for a week