vied with them
in their devotion--and that was Frank. Had Bert been his twin brother he
could not have felt more concern. He was moved to the very depths of his
heart, and with tears in his eyes begged of Mr. Lloyd permission to take
turns with them in watching by the bedside through the long hours of the
night. He was so affectionate, so thoughtful, so gentle, so trustworthy,
and Bert seemed so glad to have him, that Mr. Lloyd willingly consented;
and thus the four whom Bert loved best shared the burden of care and
anxiety between them.

Bert had never made much parade of his religion. It was the controlling
force in his life, yet it had not been in any way obtrusive. It had
grown with his growth, and strengthened with his expanding strength; and
although there had of course been many slips and falls--for what was he
but an impulsive boy?--there had been no decline, but steadfast progress
as the years of his boyhood glided past. It stood him in good stead when
death waited for him in the depths of Halifax harbour, and it was with
him now, as hour by hour he drew nearer the dark valley of the shadow.

It seemed strange for the Lloyd's home, which Bert and Mary had
brightened with laughter and song, to be so silent now, and for big Dr.
Brown, whose visits previously had been mainly of a social nature, to be
calling every day, with a serious countenance that betokened his
concern. Never were mother and sister more devoted and untiring than
Bert's. Their loving care anticipated his simplest wants; and but for
the dreadful feeling in his chest, and the fever that gave him no
relief, the novelty of being thus assiduously tended was so great, that
he would hardly have minded being their patient for a little while, at
least.

It was an unspeakable comfort to them all that his reason continued
perfectly clear, no matter how high the fever raged; and not only his
reason, but his faith was clear also. He did not despair of his
recovery, yet he shrank not from looking the darker alternative fairly
in the face, and preparing to meet it. His father's strong, serene faith
was a wonderful help to him. In the quiet evening, as the dusk drew on,
Mr. Lloyd would sit beside him, and, taking his hot hand in his, talk
with him tenderly, repeating Scripture passages of hope and comfort, or
verses from the sacred songs they both loved.

One afternoon, Frank was alone with him, Mrs. Lloyd and Mary having gone
off to take much needed rest,