“I thought you would be certain by this time, Edgar; you know you ought to be certain. Why can’t you stop bothering about yourself? Oh, Edgar, I wish you would!”
“I do get so frightened,” said Edgar, his lip trembling.
“But mamma says, that is all the more reason, why you should let the Lord Jesus take care of you. That’s all, you know, Edgar. But I have told you so often, I think the best thing I can do, is to pray for you.”
“Will you, Arthur? Will you really?” said Edgar, turning round a very anxious, eager face; and he said it again. “Oh, do please, every day, Arthur! I don’t believe any one else does. Father used to pray for me; oh, I know he did!” and Edgar’s words ended in smothered sobs.
Arthur’s arms were round his neck now. “Dear Edgar, don’t cry. You know I do love you just as if you were my brother; and I will pray for you every day. I do sometimes already. And then we can write to each other, you know, can’t we?” Looking through the trees they could see that the other boys were fast dispersing, and that only one or two of the day boys were left; so Arthur knew that he must go, and that it must be a very long good-bye to Edgar.
They walked together to the gate, and then they stopped. Edgar seemed to be searching in his pocket for something. Presently he found it, and placed it in Arthur’s hand.
“What is this?” said Arthur.
“Well, it is a present for you. I have nothing else to give you, and I did want to give you something.”
“But what is it?” said Arthur; for he seemed puzzled by the appearance of Edgar’s gift, although it was open in his hand.
“Well, I’ll tell you,” said Edgar. “I have two medals that my grandfather got at college, and father gave them to me when he went away; and, you know, if you were my brother you would have one; so I want you to take it. I have one just like it.”