im to exercise as he desired. His pupil
killed him, Tom; the worry and anxiety lest he should not come up to
the parents' expectation, combined with what he had to bear from the
boy himself, broke his health down, and he died. That boy was _me_."

Tom sat wondering, while Mr. Keane, walking to and fro, continued
slowly--"I went to see him when he was dying, in his poor lodging: he
was very poor, you must understand, but nobody durst offer him
anything, lest he should feel hurt or insulted. As long as I live,
Tom, I shall never forget that night. I saw then clearly how wicked I
had been, and how what I thought manly independence befitting my
station was only the cowardice of a spirit as far beneath his as
earth is beneath heaven. That was a lesson I never forgot; and since
that night I have tried, with God's help, to use the legacy he left
me."

"What was it?" asked Tom breathlessly.

Mr. Keane lifted Lucy's Bible from the side-table, and turning over
the pages held it out to Tom, his finger pointing to the place.

"Blessed are the meek: for they shall inherit the earth."

"Tom," said Mr. Keane one morning a few days later, "I believe you
are going to Pendlepoint tomorrow?"

"What?" Tom nearly bounded off his chair. The longing to go home to
Lucy for a day or two had well-nigh overcome him since Aunt Hepsy's
letter came; but he had tried to stifle it, and had applied himself
with double energy to his studies.

"If you don't wish to go, of course I have no more to say," began Mr.
Keane; but Tom interrupted him--

"O sir, you don't mean me to go home for good and all, I hope; have I
disappointed you? I have tried so hard, sir."

"Stop, stop!" cried Mr. Keane. "Wait till I hint at such a thing. You
have surpassed my expectations, my boy. I thought you would like to
see your sister, but if I am mistaken--"

"I do want to go, sir; I would give the world almost to see
her--but--"

"Well?"

"The expense, sir," Tom ventured to say, encouraged by his kind
friend's manner. "It is a long journey, and I have cost you so much
already."

"Nonsense; I am a rich man, Tom. But for all that I expect you to pay
me back some day. You and I will have a great reckoning by-and-by."

There was a moment's silence.

"How did you know I wanted to go home, Mr. Keane?" said Tom
by-and-by.

"I have eyes, my boy," was all Mr. Keane answered, saying nothing of
a note he had received from his sister, which ran thus:--