ollowed him, and, taking
his arm, thus addressed him:--

"In spite of all your pains, my good Josiah, I fear my poor boy is fast
hastening to the grave. Mr. Carter told me this morning he could assign
no reason for his lingering illness; he thought it now rested entirely
on the mind of the patient. You have many opportunities of noticing him,
what is your opinion on the subject?"

"I agree with Mr. Carter, Sir," replied Josiah; "though I cannot
discover the reason of my friend's obstinate grief. I have often
questioned him, but to no purpose, as he only answers me on this head
with tears."

"I fear, my kind lad," said Mr. Hope, sighing heavily as he spoke, "that
it is some bad action he has committed before his illness, that lies
upon his conscience; which, if once removed, would restore his health
and spirits. If you can, my dear Josiah, possibly discover the cause of
his dejection, I shall be greatly obliged to you." Josiah promised to do
his best, and Mr. Hope wished him good morning.

It happened that day, that George was in better spirits than usual; and
Josiah, as he watched the bright glow which at times flushed his pale
cheeks, hoped he was fast improving in health. The evening was
uncommonly beautiful; and, after they returned from their accustomary
walk, Rachel invited them to take a turn in the garden, and eat some
nice ripe strawberries she had gathered in their absence.

They gladly accepted her offer, and retired to a bench at the bottom of
the garden, which was overshadowed by a noble oak, which, in the
language of that delightful poet of nature, Bloomfield--

"Had reached its full meridian height
Before our father's father breathed."

"Hark! how merrily the Reading bells are ringing," said Josiah. "Listen,
Rachel and George, how delightfully the sound, softened by distance,
floats over the woods."

"Yes, they sound very pretty," replied Rachel; "but I wish they were not
ringing, for we shall not hear the nightingale, as we did last night;
and I prefer her sweet melancholy notes to the sound of those jingling
bells."

"I wonder what they are ringing for?" said George, thoughtfully. "I
shall never hear the sound of bells with pleasure again."

"Why not, my dear friend?" asked Josiah, not a little curious to learn
the cause of his dislike.

"Indeed, Josiah, I have not fortitude enough to tell you," returned
George, hiding his face with his hands. "I once heard them ring as
merrily as