On the following Wednesday the school broke up. Frank had several invitations from the boys to spend his holidays with them; but he knew how lonely his mother would feel in his absence, and he declined all the invitations. Mrs. Hargate was far from strong, and had had several fits of fainting. These, however, had taken place at times when Frank was at school, and she had strictly charged her little servant to say nothing about it. One day on returning from a long walk he saw the doctor's carriage standing at the door. Just as he arrived the door opened and the doctor came out. Upon seeing Frank he turned. “Come in here, my boy,” he said. Frank followed him, and seeing that the blinds were down, went to draw them up. The doctor laid his hand on his arm. “Never mind that,” he said gently. “My boy,” he said, “do you know that your mother has been for some time ailing?” “No, indeed,” Frank said with a gasp of pain and surprise. “It is so, my boy. I have been attending her for some time. She has been suffering from fainting fits brought on by weakness of the heart's action. Two hours since I was sent for and found her unconscious. My poor boy, you must compose yourself. God is good and merciful, though his decrees are hard to bear. Your mother passed away quietly half an hour since, without recovering consciousness.” Frank gave a short cry, and then sat stunned by the suddenness of the blow. The doctor drew out a small case from his pocket and poured a few drops from the phial into a glass, added some water, and held it to Frank's lips. “Drink this, my boy,” he said. Frank turned his head from the offered glass. He could not speak. “Drink this, my boy,” the doctor said again; “it will do you good. Try and be strong for the sake of your little sister, who has only you in the world now.” The thought of Lucy touched the right chord in the boy's heart, and he burst into a passionate fit of crying. The doctor allowed his tears to flow unchecked. “You will be better now,” he said presently. “Now drink this, then lie down on the sofa. We must not be having you ill, you know.” Frank gulped down the contents of the glass, and, passive as a child, allowed the doctor to place him upon the sofa. “God help and strengthen you, my poor boy,” he said; “ask help from Him.” For an hour Frank lay sobbing on the sofa, and then, remembering the doctor's last words, he knelt beside it and prayed for strength.