Howard heard this, as he waited in the sitting-room for his father and mother; heard it in great amazement, and at first it made him indignant. The idea of comparing him with Tip Lewis! Then it made him sorrowful: his father's tones were so sad; after all that had been done for him, it was hard that he should disappoint his parents.
He listened to his father's prayer that night very closely, and its earnestness brought the tears to his eyes. Altogether, Howard went to school the next morning with a somewhat sober face, and took no part whatever in the boys' fun over the meeting.
Mr. Burrows' heart had been warmed by the voice of prayer from one of his scholars, and he began to pray and long for others of them to work also; and the great God, who knows the beginning and the end, led his first words of anxiety to Howard Minturn. They stood at the desk, teacher and scholar, Howard bending over his slate.
"Can't you get it?" Mr. Burrows asked,
"No, sir."
"Howard, are you working with all your thoughts to-day?"
"No, sir." And a bright flush mounted to his forehead.
"What is it, Howard?"
"I don't know, sir; not much of anything, I guess."
"Are you not quite satisfied with yourself to-day?"