"Poor, poor fellow! my heart aches for him," Mrs. Keith said, mingling her tears with Mildred's. "And, my dear child I am very glad you had the courage and firmness to give him the help you did. I pity him, too, for his unfortunate attachment, at the same time that I, of course, could never, never be willing to see it returned. "But your courage surprises me, I doubt if I should be capable of the like myself," she added, smiling through her tears. "I know you would, mother dear," returned the girl, gazing with loving admiration into her mother's eyes; "for you are far braver and firmer than I. I should not have expected to be able to do it myself, but we never know what we can do till we are tried. "I am sure our Father helped me in answer to prayer, and according to his gracious promise, 'As thy days, so shall thy strength be,'" she added in subdued, tremulous tones. "I do not doubt it," said Mrs. Keith; "for 'our sufficiency is of God.'" Throughout the whole town great sympathy was felt for the wounded young man. People showed it in various ways; by inquiries made of the doctor or at the door, by calling in for a little friendly chat and sending delicacies to tempt his appetite; which for a time failed under the pressure of pain, enforced idleness (a great change for one who had been all his life a hard worker) and depression of spirits; for there were seasons when he was well-nigh overwhelmed at the thought of his maimed and helpless condition. Mrs. Keith went frequently to see and comfort him and his distressed mother, and was more successful in so doing than almost any one else; except Mildred, who occasionally accompanied her. They carried to Gotobed food for the mind as well as the body; books which they read to him; as he could not hold them himself, and the other members of the family had little time or ability to entertain him in that way. Also they said many a kind, encouraging word concerning the possibilities of future usefulness yet remaining to him. "I shall never be good for nothing no more," he sighed, mournfully, one day, looking down at his maimed arm and wounded hand; "can never swing my hammer, or shoe a horse again. I'll have to be a helpless burden on other folks, 'stead o' takin' care o' father and mother when they git old, as I used to think I should." "I don't know that, Gotobed," Mrs. Keith answered cheerily; "I think God has given you a good mind, and that you will gradually learn to do a great deal with that left hand; write, hold a book and turn the leaves, and so be able to educate yourself for usefulness in some new line; perhaps do more for your parents and friends than you ever could have done with your hammer." A light broke over his face at her words, "Oh!" he said drawing a long breath, "if I thought that I could bear it." "I think you are bearing it bravely," she said.