"Then, good night."
"Good night," the other replied from the door as he stepped out into the night. The cool breeze swept over meadow and field. The world was open and big, and the young man's heart expanded to it. What a comfort to feel that the Power which rules the world and all the affairs of men is unfailing in its operations! What a joy to realize that he had a loving Father to whom he could go for aid! And then also, what a tremendous responsibility was on him because of the knowledge he already had and because of his God-given agency to act for himself. Surely, he would need light from on High to help him to choose the right!
Surely, he would.
CHAPTER TWELVE.
At the coming of winter, Uncle Zed was bedfast. He was failing rapidly. Neighbors helped him. Dorian remained with him as much as he could. The bond which had existed between these two grew stronger as the time of separation became nearer. The dying man was clear-minded, and he suffered very little pain. He seemed completely happy if he could have Dorian sitting by him and they could talk together. And these were wonderful days to the young man, days never to be forgotten.
Outside, the air was cold with gusts of wind and lowering clouds. Inside, the room was cosy and warm. A few of the old man's hardiest flowers were still in pots on the table where the failing eyes could see them. That evening Mrs. Trent had tidied up the room and had left Dorian to spend the night with the sick man. The tea-kettle hummed softly on the stove. The shaded lamp was turned down low.
"Dorian."
"Yes, Uncle Zed."
"Turn up the lamp a little. It's too dark in here."
"Doesn't the light hurt your eyes!"