n, who had been resting in the study, was instantly summoned,
and the moment he saw Bert his face became radiant. Turning to Mrs.
Lloyd, he shook her hand warmly, saying:

"The worst is over. He'll come round all right now, and you may thank
your prayers, madam, and not my medicines."

Great was the rejoicing in the Lloyd household. No words would express
their gladness; and when school-time came Frank, utterly unable to
contain himself, rushed off to Dr. Johnston's, and astonished the
assembled pupils by shouting at the top of his voice:

"Hurrah, boys! Bert's not going to die. He'll soon be well again."

CHAPTER XXX.

HOME MISSIONARY WORK.

Bert's recovery was as rapid as his illness had been sudden and severe.
A fortnight after that memorable morning, when with the dawn came
deliverance, he was as vigorous and lively as ever. He found the days of
his convalescence not at all unpleasant. When the pain had passed, the
long hours of suffering seemed like a dreadful dream, and the present,
with its sweet relief and increasing strength, a blissful awaking. At
his home all was joy and brightness: there were silence and anxiety no
longer. Mrs. Lloyd and Mary went singing from room to room, Mr. Lloyd
came back from his office whistling merrily, and sure to be ready with
something to make Bert laugh. Frank ran in and out, the very type of
joyous boyhood, and each day brought its stream of callers, with warm
congratulations upon Bert's happy restoration to health.

It would be a queer boy that would not enjoy this, seeing that it all
centred upon him, and Bert fully appreciated the important position he
held for the time being. Then what could be more delightful than the
sense of returning strength, of enlarging activity?--to find one's-self
with a clearer head, a sharper appetite, and a more vigorous frame, as
one glorious summer day succeeded another; while the birds sang blithely
in the apple tree, and the blue waters of the ever-beautiful harbour
rippled gently before the morning zephyrs, or were stirred into white
caps by the afternoon breeze?

Bert's illness left no trace behind so far as his physical nature was
concerned, and yet he was not altogether the same boy as before it laid
him low. Deep solemn thoughts had been his as he lay upon his bed, not
knowing whether he should ever rise from it again. His life had been in
many respects a more than ordinarily blameless one, and yet when he had
little els