"Doesn't it seem hard and cruel, mother, to just shut out that active boy from everything he most enjoys? I can't see any cause for it at all; and yet there can be no mistake."
"Poor little boy!" said Mrs. Carter, gently pushing her daughter's hair back from her face. "He has a hard life before him, and no one to help him bear it, though he will have everything that money can give. His father and mother are not the ones to teach him how much that is good he still has left; and he looks to me like a boy that will take this very hard."
"Who wouldn't?" said Bess impetuously. Then she added, "What a shame you couldn't have been Fred's mother! You ought to have the bringing-up of all the boys in the country."
"I should probably have been the worst possible mother for most of them," replied Mrs. Carter, with a smile. "But when shall you go to see how Fred is? I think you almost ought to go soon, for the boy is so fond of you."
"I told Rob I should go to-morrow; and oh, how I dread it! I don't know at all how I shall find him: whether he is over his old trouble, or whether he can see now. I suppose I ought to go, though. Poor Rob was quite upset by the news."
"He is a sympathetic boy and very fond of Fred. I wish he would go to see him when he can. He is so gentle he wouldn't tire him; and his quiet fun would be the best possible medicine for the poor child."
"Rob promised to go when he might. I think it took all his heroism, for he is so afraid of Mrs. Allen. Why, now I think of it, she was at church this morning, for I remember noticing her new bonnet. How strange for her to leave Fred his first day at home!"
"I fancy that is her way of doing," said Mrs. Carter as she rose from her chair. "Well, I think I shall say good-night to you, my daughter."
A few moments later Bess followed her up the stairs, singing softly as she went,—
"'And win with them the victor's crown of gold.
Alleluia, Alleluia!'"