you._"

Before I left the church, and took my solitary walk home through the
wood, I had made up my mind to confess all to my parents at the very
earliest opportunity; and with this determination there was already a
sense of relief.

But the opportunity did not occur so soon as I had expected; for I found
a solitary dinner awaiting me, and the whole of that long afternoon,
except for the servants, who brought a message once or twice from the
sick-room to the effect that my parents dared not leave even for a
minute, I was quite alone, either sitting on the hearth-rug by the fire,
or standing at the door listening for any footstep on the passage
up-stairs, or even the opening or shutting of doors.

At last, at about five o'clock, I heard my father coming softly
down-stairs, and sprang to meet him. "Papa, papa, tell me, is Aleck
better?"

"I fear not, my child," answered my father gently. "I think, Willie,
that God is going to take him to Himself. But he is conscious just now,
and wants to see you. He has asked that he may wish you good-bye. You
must be very quiet indeed, and speak very gently."

I felt the tears coming hot and fast, and there was a terrible choking
in my throat; but it was impossible to hold out one moment longer, and,
struggling through my sobs, I gasped out, "Oh, papa, I have killed
him!--it's all my fault!--oh! what shall I do?" and I clung,
terror-stricken, to the hand which he had placed on my shoulder.

My father sat down, and tried to soothe me, putting his arm around me,
and saying kind, comforting words, evidently at a loss to understand the
purport of my broken utterances, whilst I tried, and tried in vain, to
control my sobs, and regain sufficient composure to explain.

At last he said firmly,--

"This agitation would do Aleck grievous harm; I must not take you to him
until you are quite calm, Willie, and yet the moments are precious: keep
what you have to say until another time, and try to stop crying; I shall
have to go up-stairs without you, unless you can be ready soon."

Then he gave me a glass of water, and still telling me not to speak,
waited until I had mastered my emotion and was tolerably calm, then led
me by the hand up to Aleck's room.

"Wish me good-bye," I said over and over to myself. Such a long
good-bye, how could I bear it!

There was no one else in the room at the moment but my mother, who sat
at the foot of the bed with something in her hand for Aleck. It was