"You have got lots of money," remarked Edward, as he glanced at the contents of the box.

"Not much; only twelve dollars," replied Harry, taking out three of them to pay his expenses to Rockville.

"You won't leave that box there, will you, while you are gone?"

"Why not?"

"Somebody may steal it."

"I guess not. I can hide it, though, before I go."

"Better do so."

Harry took his money and went to a bookstore in Washington Street, where he purchased an appropriate present for Julia, for which he gave half a dollar. On his return, he wrote her name in it, with his own as the giver. Then the safety of his money came up for consideration; and this matter was settled by raising a loose board in the floor and depositing the pill box in a secure place. He had scarcely done so before Edward joined him.

Our hero did not sleep much that night. He was not altogether satisfied with the step he was about to take. It was not doing right by his employers; but he compromised the matter in part by engaging Edward, "for a consideration," to make the fires and sweep out the next morning.

At noon, on the following day, he reached Rockville, and hastened to the house of Mr. Bryant.

"How is she?" he asked, breathless with interest, of the girl who answered his knock.

"She is better to-day. Are you the boy from Boston?"

"Yes. Do they think she will get well?"

"The doctor has more hope of her."

"I am very glad to hear it."

Harry was conducted into the house, and Mr. Bryant was informed of his presence.

"I am glad you have come, Harry. Julia is much better to-day," said her father, taking him by the hand. "She has frequently spoken of you during her illness, and feels a very strong interest in your welfare."

"She was very good to me. I don't know what would have become of me if she had not been a friend to me."

"That is the secret of her interest in you. We love those best whom we serve most. She is asleep now; but you shall see her as soon as she wakes. In the meantime you had better have your dinner."

Mr. Bryant looked very pale, and his eyes were reddened with weeping.

Harry saw how much he had suffered during the last fortnight; but it seemed natural to him that he should suffer terribly at the thought of losing one so beautiful and precious as the little angel.

He dined alone with Mr. Bryant, for Mrs. Bryant could not leave the couch of the little sufferer. The fond father could speak of nothing but Julia, and more than once the tears flooded his eyes, as he told Harry how meek and patient she had been through the fever, how loving she was, and how resigned even to leave her parents, and go to the heavenly Parent, to dwell with Him forever.

Harry wept, too; and after dinner he almost feared to enter the chamber, and behold the wreck which disease had made of this bright and beautiful form. Removing the wrapper from the book he had brought--a volume of sweet poems, ent.i.tled "Angel Songs"--he followed Mr. Bryant into the sick girl's chamber.

"Ah, Harry, I am delighted to see you!" exclaimed she, in a whisper, for her diseased throat rendered articulation difficult and painful.

"I am sorry to see you so sick, Julia," replied Harry, taking the wasted hand she extended to him.

"I am better, Harry. I feel as though I should get well now."

"I hope you will."

"You don't know how much I have thought of you while I lay here; how I wished you were my brother, and could come in every day and see me,"

she continued, with a faint smile.

"I wish I could."

"Now tell me how you get along in Boston."

"Very well; but your father says I must not talk much with you now. I have brought you a little book," and he placed it in her hand.

"How good you are, Harry! 'Angel Songs.' How pretty! Now, Harry, you must read me one of the angel songs."

"I will; but I can't read very well," said he, as he opened the volume.

But he did read exceedingly well. The piece he selected was a very pretty and a very touching little song; and Harry's feelings were so deeply moved by the pathetic sentiments of the poem and their adaptation to the circ.u.mstances of the case, that he was quite eloquent.

When he had finished, Mrs. Bryant interfered to prevent further conversation; and Julia, though she had a great deal to say to her young friend, cheerfully yielded to her mother's wishes, and Harry reluctantly left the room.

Towards night he was permitted to see her again, when he read several of the angel songs to her, and gave her a brief account of the events of his residence in Boston. She was pleased with his earnestness, and smiled approvingly upon him for the moral triumphs he had achieved.

The reward of all his struggles with trial and temptation was lavishly bestowed in her commendation, and if fidelity had not been its own reward, he could have accepted her approval as abundant compensation for all he had endured. There was no silly sentiment in Harry's composition; he had read no novels, seen no plays, knew nothing of romance even "in real life." The homage he yielded to the fair and loving girl was an unaffected reverence for simple purity and goodness; that which the True Heart and the True Life never fail to call forth whenever they exert their power.

On the following morning, Julia's condition was very much improved, and the physician spoke confidently of a favorable issue. Harry was permitted to spend an hour by her bedside, inhaling the pure spirit that pervaded the soul of the sick one. She was so much better that her father proposed to visit the city, to attend to some urgent business, which had been long deferred by her illness; and an opportunity was thus afforded for Harry to return.

Mr. Bryant drove furiously in his haste, changing horses twice on the journey, so that they reached the city at one o'clock. On their arrival, Harry's attention naturally turned to the reception he expected to receive from his employers. He had not spoken of his relations with them at Rockville, preferring not to pain them, on the one hand, and not to take too much credit to himself for his devotion to Julia, on the other. After the horse was disposed of at Major Phillips's stable, Mr. Bryant walked down town with Harry; and when they reached the store of Wake & Wade, he entered with him.

"What have you come back for?" asked the senior partner, rather coldly, when he saw the delinquent. "We don't want you."

Harry was confused at this reception, though it was not unexpected.

"I didn't know but that you might be willing to take me again."

"No, we don't want you. Ah, Mr. Bryant! Happy to see you," continued Mr. Wake, recognizing Harry's friend.

"Did I understand you aright? Did you say that you did not want my young friend, here?" replied Mr. Bryant, taking the offered hand of Mr. Wake.

"I did say so," said the senior. "I was not aware that he was your friend, though," and he proceeded to inform Mr. Bryant that Harry had left them against their wish.

"A few words with you, if you please."

Mr. Wake conducted him to the private office, where they remained for half an hour.

"It is all right, Harry," continued Mr. Wake, on their return. "I did not understand the matter."

"Thank you, sir!" e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed our hero, rejoiced to find his place was still secure. "I would not have gone if I could possibly have helped it."

"You did right, my boy, and I honor you for your courage and constancy."

Mr. Bryant bade him an affectionate adieu, promising to write to him often until Julia recovered, and then departed.