"What touches my brother, touches me also," said Maude, lovingly drawing closer, and putting her arm round him; "and I know mamma would be willing to die, if she thought a sorrow like that would bring you to the Lord Jesus for forgiveness and peace. Oh, brother, we don't half understand as she does the value of an immortal soul, or the wonderful blessing of being a child of God!"
Guy was unusually subdued, and gently returning his sister's embrace, rose and left the room.
By the side of his bed, in the little mean room he had despised, he knelt down and wept hot tears of self-condemnation and shame. He had thought that at the tomb beneath the cedars, he had for his mother's sake laid down wrong feelings and vindictive passions; but even if he had, they were but one form of the mischief which he was allowing to riot within him, and he felt that the root remained yet. Nothing that could really help him came to mind, but the prayer he had uttered in form only, from childhood:
"Create in me a clean heart, O God, and renew a right spirit within me."
And now it seemed to breathe for him just what he wanted.
When he returned to their humble sitting-room, he looked so exhausted and ill, that Mrs. Falconer, who was preparing for a morning's work at her picture, looked anxiously at him again and again.
"I'm all right, mother," said he, cheerfully, answering the troubled gaze, "but I should like to paint for you this morning, and it won't matter about school, for there are only exercises and drill, which I—I—don't care about. And I can go in the afternoon."
"You don't feel strong enough, my dear boy," said his mother; "is not that the reason?"
"Just a little queer, but nothing of any consequence, so pray don't send for a doctor," said Guy, laughing.
Mrs. Falconer felt a pang of anguish for a moment. Alas! If medical advice should be necessary, she could scarcely afford to seek it. But was not this all in her heavenly Father's hands? And "Thy will be done;" "Jehovah-jireh," whispered peace and rest to her fluttering heart.