?" asked Dr. May, smiling, as he held
the boy more closely to him.

"No; but it will be a long time before I come back. They think we shall
have orders for the Pacific."

"You will come home our real lion," said the doctor. "How much you will
have to tell!"

"Yes," said Harry; "but oh! it is very different from coming home every
night, not having any one to tell a thing to."

"Do you want to say anything now?"

"I don't know. I told you in my letter about the half-sovereign."

"Ay, never mind that."

"And there was one night, I am afraid, I did not stand by a little
fellow that they bullied about his prayers. Perhaps he would have gone
on, if I had helped him!"

"Does he sail with you?"

"No, he was at school. If I had told him that he and I would stand by
each other--but he looked so foolish, and began to cry! I am sorry now."

"Weak spirits have much to bear," said the doctor, "and you stronger
ones, who don't mind being bullied, are meant, I suppose, to help them,
as Norman has been doing by poor little Tommy."

"It was thinking of Norman--that made me sorry. I knew there was
something else, but you see I forget when I don't see you and Margaret
every day."

"You have One always near, my boy."

"I know, but I cannot always recollect. And there is such a row at night
on board, I cannot think or attend as I ought," murmured Harry.

"Yes, your life, sleeping at home in quiet, has not prepared you for
that trial," said the doctor. "But others have kept upright habits under
the same, you know--and God helps those who are doing their best."

Harry sighed.

"I mean to do my best," he added; "and if it was not for feeling bad,
I should like it. I do like it"--and his eye sparkled, and his smile
beamed, though the tear was undried.

"I know you do!" said Dr. May, smiling, "and for feeling bad, my Harry,
I fear you must do that by sea, or land, as long as you are in this
world. God be thanked that you grieve over the feeling. But He is ready
to aid, and knows the trial, and you will be brought nearer to Him
before you leave us."

"Margaret wrote about the Confirmation. Am I old enough?"

"If you wish it, Harry, under these circumstances."

"I suppose I do," said Harry, uneasily twirling a button.

"But then, if I've got to forgive the Andersons--"

"We won't talk any more of that," said the doctor; "here is poor Mary,
reconnoitring, to know why I am keeping you from her."

Then began the scamperin