The widow looked searchingly in the boy's face, and trembled all over. "Nevertheless," said she, "I'll have everything ready for life. In His hands are the issues. Warm the lad's bed, Ann, and heat the blankets—ay, roast them brown, if thou likest. Put the peppermint tea on the hob. Do thou try warmth, and I'll try prayer;" and the aged women betook themselves to their several offices.
The party soon entered in silence; for they dared not raise the mother's hopes over so very doubtful a case of revival.
"Take him straight to his own warm bed," she said, "and place me and my chair beside him. Who knows but the Lord may hear the cry of the destitute and not despise their prayer? It seems borne in upon my mind that it shall be well with the lad, and that his spirit shall come to him again."
Two long hours afterwards, Alice glided downstairs, and going to Mark, who was leaning his head on both his hands, with his elbows on the kitchen table, said with beaming eyes and glowing face, "Oh, Master Wilson, the color is come again into Miles' face, and he is quite warm, and sleeping like a child."
He started up, took both her hands in his, and pronounced a solemn thanksgiving.
"Alice," he added, "let us pray that our brother may in very truth be alive from the dead. Surely that was repentance last night. I thought I heard the sob of a broken and a contrite spirit. But his going out in that strange way is what puzzles me."
"Wait—wait, and see," said the loving sister; "I think it will all be made clear. He was so tender to mother last night; so very gentle and kind to me."
"That is no particular sign of good that I know of," said Mark, smiling at her flushed and eager defence of her brother; "how could he be anything else than kind, and loving to thee?"
"Oh, Master Wilson, you don't understand me at all."
"Master? We can never be master and pupil in that old distant way after having shared so much together yesterday and to-day. I shall never be able to separate the thought of thee from anything now, Alice."