lfred felt
himself far more cruel than he had even thought Harold.

And was this his resolution? Was this the shewing the sincerity of his
repentance through his conduct in illness? Was this patience? Was it
brotherly love? Was it the taking up the cross so as to bear it like his
Saviour, Who spoke no word of complaining, no murmur against His
tormentors?

How he had fallen! How he had lost himself! It was a bitter distress,
and threw him almost into despair. He prayed over and over to be
forgiven, and began to long for some assurance of pardon, and for
something to prevent all his right feelings and wishes from thus seeming
to slip away from his grasp at the first trial.

He told his mother how sorry he was; and she answered, 'Dear lad, don't
fret about it. It was very hard for you to bear, and you are but
learning, you see, to be patient.'

'But I'm not learning if I don't go on no better,' sighed Alfred.

'By bits you are, my boy,' she said; 'you are much less fractious now
than you used to be, only you could not stand this out-of-the-way trial.'

Alfred groaned.

'Do you remember what our Saviour said to St. Peter?' said his mother;
'"Whither I go thou canst not follow Me now, but thou shalt follow Me
afterwards." You see, St. Peter couldn't bear his cross then, but he
went on doing his best, and grieving when he failed, and by-and-by he did
bear it almost like his Master. He got to be made strong out of
weakness.'

There was some comfort to Alfred in this; but he feared, and yet longed,
to see Mr. Cope, and when he came, had scarcely answered his questions as
to how he felt, before he said, 'O Sir, I've been a bad boy again, and so
cross to them all!'

'O Sir,' said Ellen, who could not bear for him to blame himself, 'I'm
sure it was no wonder--he's so distracted with the pain, and Harold
getting idling, and forgetting to bring him the ointment. Why, even that
vagabond boy was so shocked, that he went all the way to Elbury that very
night for it. I told Alfred you'd tell him that anybody would be put
out, and nobody would think of minding what he said.'

'Nobody, especially so kind a sister,' said Mr. Cope, smiling; 'but that
is not what Alfred is thinking of.'

'No, Sir,' said Alfred; 'their being so good to me makes it all the
worse.'

'I quite believe so; and you are very much disappointed in yourself.'

'Oh yes, Sir, just when I wanted to be getting patient, and more like--'
and his