"What came into my mind when I turned and looked at him was a kind of wonder what the world would be like to me when he had gone out of it; but what I said was--`I don't feel more tired than common. You lie down on the bed, and I'll get Davie's jacket and mend it while we have a little talk.' So I got the jacket and held it, though I couldn't put a stitch in. My hands shook so that I couldn't thread my needle. Jim took and threaded it for me. And then he lay still, with a look of trouble on his face that made me say at last,-- "`I think I know what you are going to say, Jim. It will be a dreadful trouble to me and your father; but you oughtn't to be troubled about it, Jim. You are going to a better place: you are not afraid, Jim?' "`No, dear mother, not for myself--nor for you. You'll get over it after awhile, and you'll come too--you and the boys. But, mother, I want father to come too.' "I hadn't a word to say. I must have been a wicked woman. For half a minute it seemed to me that heaven itself would be spoiled if Ezra Stone were there. "`And you must help him, mother,' said Jim. "`I haven't helped him much lately about anything,' I said. "`No; I think you're a little hard on father, mother;' and then he turned on his pillow and put his two arms round my neck, and drew my face down to his. His words hurt me dreadfully. "`The Lord Himself will have to take hold to change him,' I said. "`Yes, of course, mother; and you'll help him.' "He didn't say any more; and in awhile he fell asleep, and neither of us stirred till I heard his father's step on the floor. I did not stir then, though it had been our way all those years to keep out of his sight any special sign of affection between us. "He came in and stood a spell looking at us, I suppose; and then he went out, knowing for certain the thing which in his heart he had been dreading all along, for he must have seen the signs of death on his boy's face that day. "Jim lived full three weeks after that, and he was a very happy boy. His fear of his father had all gone. Jim showed how glad he was every time he came into the room; and he would smile, and hold his hand, and speak softly to him, words which the rest of us could not hear, till he could stand it no longer. Then Ezra would rise and go out alone. He never came to me for comfort, and, if he had, I had none to give. "Just once I heard Jim say, `You will, won't you, father? God will help you, and--mother.' "His father groaned, and with good reason, for God seemed far away from him, and he could not count much on help from me. "Well, Jim died in his sleep, and we buried him near the other two; and it was very quiet in the house for a spell, and then everything fell into place again, and all went on as before, as far as those looking on could see." CHAPTER NINE. MRS STONE.