As Mrs. Hamilton entered the little sitting-room which used to be the pride of her son's heart, it was so full of warmth and light and brightness that, for a moment, in spite of herself, she felt as if she must see the cheery boy of six months before. Everything so suggested him, and it was so clearly the room of a boy who loved all kinds of outdoor exercise. A pair of tennis racquets crossed on the wall had evidently resigned their place for the time being to the golf clubs which stood in one comer. A couple of paddles occupied another comer, and rigged on the wall near the door was a complicated arrangement of ropes, pulleys and weights designed to exercise every muscle in the human body. Mrs. Hamilton sighed involuntarily as her eye rested on a silver cup which stood proudly on the centre table, a mute witness to the prowess of its owner. It was the prize for a hundred yard dash in which Arthur had borne off the honors.
"He'll never be able to do that again, poor laddie," she said to herself, as she waited a moment to brush the tears from her eyes before opening the door into the next room.
"Good-morning, dear boy," she said brightly, as she entered a room which seemed doubly gloomy to her after the brightness of the one she had left. "You should provide a boy with a torch so that your visitors can see to get across the room. What ho! have I found you at last?" she continued, as she took her son's hand in a tender grasp and gave him a good-morning kiss.
"Do let's have some sunshine, Arthur," she said, putting up the curtain and letting in a flood of light. "There, now I feel more at home. Why don't you get the benefit of the morning sunshine?"
"I don't like to look out just at this time in the morning, mother," he answered briefly.
Mrs. Hamilton understood in a flash, for just as they were speaking a gay group of boys and girls had passed the window, and Arthur, who had turned involuntarily to look at them, had closed his eyes quickly as though to shut out the pleasant sight.
"Dr. Holland says you may begin to study again, now, Arthur," said his mother cheerfully, "and it seems to me you might be ready for college next fall if you do a little every day. You may have a tutor any time you are ready."
"What's the use?" answered Arthur languidly. "I can't do anything in athletics with this confounded leg, and I don't want to go there just to limp around and grind."
"My dear boy, college training is occasionally useful in the way of improving one's mind as well as muscles," said Mrs. Hamilton with mild sarcasm. "Dear, don't think I am unsympathetic," she added quickly as her son. frowned impatiently. "I realize, in part, at least, what it must be to you to give up your dreams of athletic glory; but I know, too, that no one else can fight this battle for you. You've got to face the question squarely, and I have faith that you will come out a conqueror if you put your best self into the effort."
"Mother, you don't begin to know," said Arthur slowly, "what this means to me. It's not alone giving up the athletics, though that's hard enough, but it's the sensitiveness I feel about letting any one see that I'm lame. I believe I was rather proud before," he continued with a faint smile, "because I was straight and strong and could almost always beat the other boys at any game we tried; I know it always seemed to me the most dreadful thing in the world to be crippled in any way, and now I've got to hop around with a crutch all the rest of my life. Oh, I believe I'd rather die," he ended bitterly.