e him look on the dark
side now, but you mustn't mind it, Willie; you must take care and turn
out well yourself, my son, and then he'll be proud enough; he's as
pleased as he can be when he hears you praised, and expects great things
of you one of these days."

Here the conversation ended; but Willie added another to his many
resolves, that, if his health and strength were spared, he would prove
to his grandfather that hopes were not always deceitful, and that fears
were sometimes groundless.

Oh, what a glorious thing it is for a youth when he has ever present
with him a high, a noble, and unselfish motive! What an incentive to
exertion, perseverance, and self-denial! Fears that would otherwise
appal, discouragements that would dishearten, labours that would weary,
opposition that would crush, temptation that would overcome, all, all
lie powerless, when, with a single-hearted and worthy aim, he struggles
for the victory! Persons born in wealth and luxury seldom achieve
greatness. They were not born for labour; and, without labour, nothing
that is worth having can be won. A motive Willie had long had. His
grandfather was old, his mother weak, and both poor. He must be the
staff of their old age; must labour for their support and comfort; he
must do _more_:--they hoped great things of him; they _must_ not be
disappointed. He did not, however, while arming himself for future
conflict with the world, forget the present, but sat down and learned
his Sunday-school lessons. After which, according to custom, he read
aloud in the Bible; and then Mrs. Sullivan, laying her hand on the head
of her son, offered up a simple, heart-felt prayer for the boy--one of
those mother's prayers which the child listens to with reverence and
love, and remembers for life.

After Willie went home that evening, and Gerty was left alone with True,
she sat beside him for some time without speaking. Her eyes were
intently fixed upon the white image which lay in her lap. True was not
the first to speak; but finding Gerty unusually quiet, he looked
inquiringly in her face, and said--"Well, Willie's a pretty clever sort
of a boy, isn't he?"

Gerty answered "Yes" without, however, seeming to know what she was
saying.

"You like him, don't you?" said True.

"Very much," said Gerty, in the same absent way. It was not Willie she
was thinking of. True waited for Gerty to talk about her new
acquaintance; but she did not speak for a minute or two. Then