All the fatherly impulses of his nature were stirred by the pitiful little face on the pillow.
He knelt down and put his strong arm tenderly over the boy.
"Lee," he said, "look up here, son."
Lee glanced timidly at the bearded face so near his own.
"You were lying here in the dark, crying because you felt that there was nobody left to love you. Now put your arms around my neck, dear, while I tell you something. I had a little child once. I can never begin to tell you how I loved her. When she died it nearly broke my heart. But I said, for her sake I shall love all children, and try to make them happy. Because her little feet knew the way home to God, I shall try to keep all other children in the same pure path. For her sake, first, I loved you; now, since we have been together, for your own. I want you to feel that I am such a close friend that you can always come to me just as freely as you did to your father."
The boy's clasp around his neck tightened.
"But, Lee, there will be times in your life when you will need greater help than I can give; and because I know just how you will be tried, and tempted, and discouraged, I want you to take the best of friends for your own right now. I want you to take Jesus. Will you do this?"
Lee hesitated, and then said in a half-frightened whisper, "I don't know how."
"Did you ever ask your papa to forgive you after you had been very naughty?" asked Mr. Marion.
"O yes," cried Lee, "but it was too late." Between his choking sobs he told of the promise lying on his father's heart, in the far-off grave under the cemetery cedars.