er, and
gently opening the chamber door, asked if he could be of use.

"You can, Sir, if you think yourself able," replied Mr Everett. "I
believe we may trust you, for you are aware of the importance of
self-command just now. I advise you to take a glass of wine, and then
go and speak to your friend, and we will call you when we want you."

Charles did so.

"Your mother has gone to lie down," he whispered; "by the time she
wakes, we shall have comfort to give her, and you will be better able to
see her."

Monteath pressed his hand. "I am better than I was," said he; "stronger
in mind, too. I do believe I dreaded seeing my mother more than any
thing else."

Mr Everett now approached the bed, and in a short time, which, however,
appeared to Charles as if it never would be over, the painful thing was
done, and Monteath was in bed again. Charles remained beside him, and
in an hour the patient was once more in a sound sleep. Mr Everett went
then to tell his father and mother what had been done. They were
dreadfully agitated at first, but the sight of their son in deep repose
calmed them, and every thing was soon so comfortably arranged, that
Charles thought his assistance was no longer needed. He went to bed,
rested till the middle of the day, and in the afternoon proceeded with
Mr Everett to Exeter, the assistant being left behind with the patient,
and Mr Everett promising to return the next day but one. Monteath did
not | know how to express his gratitude, and his parents'
acknowledgments were painful to Charles, who felt that in common
humanity he could not have done less than he had done. They however
thought differently, and were grateful, not only for what he had done,
but for the manner of doing it; and felt very sure, that, painful as
that night had been to Charles, every recollection of it would bring
pleasure as long as he lived. He promised his friend that he would not
return to London without seeing him, and then set off, wondering when he
thought that his acquaintance with Monteath had been of only twenty-four
hours' standing, and that, in that time, he had been called on to
perform more painful offices of kindness, than generally devolve upon
intimate friends during a connexion of many years.

"At this hour yesterday," thought Charles, "we met for the first time,
and now we are perhaps friends for life. It has been proved, by a fiery
trial, that Monteath has many virtues. I know, beyond a do