It was but a week after this that a violent cold hastened the progress of debility into a confirmed malady. He sunk very fast. Aunt Sally, with the self-deceit of a fond and cheerful heart, thought every day that "he _would_ be better," and Uncle Lot resisted conviction with all the obstinate pertinacity of his character, while the sick man felt that he had not the heart to undeceive them. James was now at the house every day, exhausting all his energy and invention in the case of his friend; and any one who had seen him in his hours of recklessness and glee, could scarcely recognize him as the being whose step was so careful, whose eye so watchful, whose voice and touch were so gentle, as he moved around the sick bed. But the same quickness which makes a mind buoyant in gladness, often makes it gentlest and most sympathetic in sorrow. It was now nearly morning in the sick room. George had been restless and feverish all night; but towards day he fell into a slight slumber, and James sat by his side, almost holding his breath lest he should waken him. It was yet dusk, but the sky was brightening with a solemn glow, and the stars were beginning to disappear; all, save the bright and morning one, which, standing alone in the east, looked tenderly through the casement, like the eye of our heavenly Father, watching over us when all earthly friendships are fading. George awoke with a placid expression of countenance, and fixing his eyes on the brightening sky, murmured faintly,-- "The sweet, immortal morning sheds Its blushes round the spheres." A moment after, a shade passed over his face; he pressed his fingers over his eyes, and the tears dropped silently on his pillow. "George! _dear_ George!" said James, bending over him. "It's my friends--it's my father--my mother," said he, faintly. "Jesus Christ will watch over them," said James, soothingly. "O, yes, I know he will; for _he_ loved his own which were in the world; he loved them unto the end. But I am dying--and before I have done any good." "O, do not say so," said James; "think, think what you have done, if only for _me_. God bless you for it! God _will_ bless you for it; it will follow you to heaven; it will bring me there. Yes, I will do as you have taught me. I will give my life, my soul, my whole strength to it; and then you will not have lived in vain." George smiled, and looked upward; "his face was as that of an angel;" and James, in his warmth, continued,-- "It is not I alone who can say this; we all bless you; every one in this place blesses you; you will be had in everlasting remembrance by some hearts here, I know." "Bless God!" said George. "We do," said James. "I bless him that I ever knew you; we all bless him, and we love you, and shall forever." The glow that had kindled over the pale face of the invalid again faded as he said,-- "But, James, I must, I ought to tell my father and mother; I ought to, and how can I?"