n the head would
certainly affect the brain and the intellect if he lived."

Eric shuddered--a long cold shudder.

The holidays drew on; for Russell's sake, and at his earnest wish, Eric
had worked harder than he ever did before. All his brilliant abilities,
all his boyish ambition, were called into exercise; and to the delight
of every one, he gained ground rapidly, and seemed likely once more to
dispute the palm with Owen. No one rejoiced more in this than Mr Rose,
and he often gladdened Russell's heart by telling him about it; for
every day he paid a long visit to the sick boy's room, which refreshed
and comforted them both.

In other respects too, Eric seemed to be turning over a new leaf. He
and Upton, by common consent, had laid aside smoking, and every bad
habit or disobedient custom which would have grieved the dying boy whom
they both loved so well. And although Eric's popularity, after the
romantic Stack adventure, and his chivalrous daring, was at its very
zenith,--although he had received a medal and flattering letter from the
Humane Society, who had been informed of the transaction by Dr
Rowlands,--although his success, both physical and intellectual, was
higher than ever,--yet the dread of the great loss he was doomed to
suffer, and the friendship which was to be snapped, overpowered every
other feeling, and his heart was ennobled and purified by contact with
his suffering friend.

It was a June evening, and he and Russell were alone; he had drawn up
the blind, and through the open window the summer breeze, pure from the
sea and fragrant from the garden, was blowing refreshfully into the sick
boy's room. Russell was very, very happy. No doubt, no fear assailed
him all was peace and trustfulness. Long and earnestly that evening did
he talk to Eric, and implore him to shun evil ways, striving to lead him
gently to that love of God which was his only support and refuge now.
Tearfully and humbly Eric listened, and every now and then the sufferer
stopped to pray aloud.

"Good-night, Eric," he said, "I am tired, _so_ tired. I hope we shall
meet again; I shall give you my desk and all my books, Eric, except a
few for Horace, Owen, Duncan, and Monty. And my watch, that dear watch
your mother, _my_ mother, gave me, I shall leave to Rose as a
remembrance of us both. Good-night, dear old boy."

A little before ten that night Eric was again summoned with Upton and
Montagu to Russell's bedside. He was