ght be able,
without fatigue, to take possession of the drawing-room couch by the
pleasant window, with its view of the sea; and how a smaller room on
the same floor was to be prepared for his father. But by and bye, in
spite of his efforts, his attention flagged, and he looked so exhausted
that Elizabeth refused to say another word.

"I shall give you your luncheon, and then read you to sleep," she said,
in what David called "her Mother Gamp tone;" but he was too worn out to
resist, and though forgetfulness was not to be obtained, it was
certainly a comfort to lie with closed eyes and listen to Elizabeth's
dear voice, till the twilight compelled her to close the book, and then
she sat by him in silence until he asked her to light the lamp.

Tea was ready before Mr. Carlyon returned. As he opened the door he
gave a quick, anxious glance at Elizabeth.

"Come in, dad, it is all right," observed David in a weak voice, but he
spoke with his old cheeriness. "Wilful man, and wilful woman too, must
have their way, and I have given in like a good boy."

"That's a dear lad," returned his father, rubbing his cold hands
gleefully together. "I knew you would make him hear reason, Elizabeth.
She is worth the rest of us put together, is she not, Davie?"

"Mr. Carlyon," interrupted Elizabeth, "David is tired and must not talk
any more, and some one else is tired too." And then she drew up an
easy-chair by the fire and gave Mr. Carlyon his tea, and talked to him
softly about Mr. Charrington and Kit, until it was time for her to go;
but even then she refused to bid him good-bye. "I shall be at the
station," she whispered, as he kissed her forehead; "we can say things
to each other then," and he understood her and nodded.

But later on, as Mr. Carlyon sat beside his son's bed-side, with the
worn little book of devotions out of which he had been reading to him
still open in his hands, he was struck with the strained, troubled look
in David's eyes.

"What is it, my dear?" he said wistfully, for the curate-in-charge of
Stokeley had homely little ways and tricks of speech that endeared him
still more to those who loved him, and Elizabeth would often praise the
simplicity and unobtrusive goodness that reminded her of David.

"There is something on your mind," he continued tenderly; "make a clean
breast of it, my boy. You and I understand each other--don't we,
Davie?" and Mr. Carlyon gently patted his son's hand, as though he were
sti