of
my wicked behaviour, and could only comfort myself by doing all that in
me lay to make his confinement as little wearisome as possible. Knowing
his active, restless nature, I could fully appreciate what the trial
must be, even with every alleviation, and often wondered he was able to
bear it so cheerfully.

But when I ventured to express to my cousin these speculations of mine,
he would laugh them off merrily.

"Why, Willie, how can I help being thankful and happy? Not to speak of
uncle and aunt, who seem to be doing something for me every hour of the
day; nor of old George, who toils up every morning to see me, though he
used to tell me that it made his old bones ache--a fact he will never
allow now; nor of Frisk, who sits upon my feet for hours, on purpose to
keep them warm; I should like to know how I could help being cheerful,
with your own dear old self giving up the greater part of your play-time
to chess, or carpentry, or madrepores, and spending every penny of your
pocket-money--No; it's of no use your stopping me to deny it. I've
counted up, and you've spent every penny of your pocket-money--just as I
was saying--in buying books, or tools, or things for me; waiting upon
me, too, as if I were a prince and you my slave. Why, I'm perfectly
afraid of admiring anything you have, lest I should find it done up in a
parcel, and sent to me, like the illustrated copy of 'Robinson Crusoe'
the other day!"

In this sort of grateful spirit, making much of all my little trifling
acts of kindness, Aleck scarcely allowed us to feel that he was
under-going any deprivation during the months that he lay on the sofa.

Once only I remember noticing a little cloud, that vanished again almost
as soon as it appeared. One morning, after lessons were over, I came
running into the study with my Latin exercise.

"Papa, Mr. Glengelly was so pleased with my exercise, he has sent me in
to show it to you."

My father looked over it, reading little bits aloud, and finding with
surprise that, difficult though it was, there were no mistakes. From my
father's table I flew to the sofa on which Aleck was lying, with Frisk
at his feet as usual, the open copy-book in my hand. But in an instant I
could see there was some trouble in my cousin's face.

"Aleck, dear Aleck," I whispered anxiously, "what is it? Have I done
anything?"

"No--nothing at all," replied my cousin with a great effort, and hastily
brushing away his tears. "Let me have