it is God's will. I want you to be a brave
boy, and not let your mother see you going about grieving and looking
sad, and adding to her sorrow, but do all you can to help and comfort
her. If you love me, you will try to do this." Charlie promised to try,
and after a few more words of comfort and encouragement John Heedman
persuaded him to go to bed. "My dear boy," he said, "you know that your
love is a great happiness to me, but you must not come down again if you
hear me up in the night; it will make me unhappy if I think I keep you
awake."

After this, although Charlie often heard his father of a night, he never
came down again; but he crept softly out of bed and knelt down and
prayed for him. He asked God to grant--if it were His will--that his
father might get better; if not, that He would help him to bear his
pain, for Jesus Christ's sake. It was not at all a grand, well-worded
prayer, but it was simple, earnest, and heartfelt--just the sort of
prayer God loves to listen to.

On the morning of Charlie's birthday, about a fortnight after that night
he went down to his father, John Heedman was quite unable to go out to
his work; he had been obliged to give up at last, and the doctor was
called in. When Charlie was sent out of the room until the doctor's
visit was over, he rushed out of the house, unable to bear the suspense,
and wandering down to the beach, he lay down to think with his face
hidden in his cap, as if to shut out the too joyous sunlight.

As he listened to the low, mournful surging of the waves, all his past
life seemed to rise up before him; he remembered with bitter
self-reproach how ill he had repaid the love and kindness of those dear
ones at home; how often he had caused his mother hours of anxiety by his
carelessness and procrastination; for Charlie had not altogether
succeeded in conquering his great fault; how selfish he had been in
every way. He remembered with shame how he had begged and worried for
things without caring or thinking whether they could afford it; he had
denied himself nothing, and now all this expense of his father's illness
was coming upon them. If they had not taken him to keep when he was
friendless, they would have had plenty of money saved, and would have
wanted for nothing.

As Charlie thought of all this, he determined that he would be a burden
to them no longer, he would try to earn some money; there were boys far
younger than himself, he knew, at work, and if he o