"Did he? Heaven bless the boy."
"Why father, you seem to love him so much, almost more than you love me," said the boy with a faint pang. "Don't do that father, for he has so much, and I have nothing in the wide world but my father!"
"No, no, I don't love him so much—not more than his bright goodness deserves, Joseph; but you are my son—my only son sent to me from your sweet mother's death-bed—how could I love anything so well!"
"Forgive me, father," cried the boy, and his blue eyes sparkled through pendent tears. "Forgive me; I was jealous only a little, and it is all gone; I will go and tell Frederick that you want him to help me!"
"But you are weak, my boy."
"No, father, Mary Fuller has shamed my weakness all away. She is no stronger than I am, but what would that poor family do without her? I will never be so feeble again."
"Yes I will go and rest, and these boys shall do my work," said the old man proudly; "they will find her, together, I think; I could do nothing."
"We will find her, never fear," answered Joseph hopefully and putting on his straw hat he went out.