"Yes, but it is true, sister: I do not feel it on my own account so much as——However," he added, "it will all be the same in heaven."
It was but a week after this that a violent cold hastened the progress of debility into a confirmed malady. He sunk very fast. Aunt Sally, with the self-deceit of a fond and cheerful heart, thought every day that "he would be better," and Uncle Lot resisted conviction with all the obstinate pertinacity of his character, while the sick man felt that he had not the heart to undeceive them.
James was now at the house every day, exhausting all his energy and invention in the case of his friend; and any one who had seen him in his hours of recklessness and glee, could scarcely recognize him as the being whose step was so careful, whose eye so watchful, whose voice and touch were so gentle, as he moved around the sick bed. But the same quickness which makes a mind buoyant in gladness, often makes it gentlest and most sympathetic in sorrow.
It was now nearly morning in the sick room. George had been restless and feverish all night; but towards day he fell into a slight slumber, and James sat by his side, almost holding his breath lest he should waken him. It was yet dusk, but the sky was brightening with a solemn glow, and the stars were beginning to disappear; all, save the bright and morning one, which, standing alone in the east, looked tenderly through the casement, like the eye of our heavenly Father, watching over us when all earthly friendships are fading.
George awoke with a placid expression of countenance, and fixing his eyes on the brightening sky, murmured faintly,—
"The sweet, immortal morning sheds
Its blushes round the spheres."
A moment after, a shade passed over his face; he pressed his fingers over his eyes, and the tears dropped silently on his pillow.
"George! dear George!" said James, bending over him.
"It's my friends—it's my father—my mother," said he, faintly.
"Jesus Christ will watch over them," said James, soothingly.