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be done,' and of not giving way to all
our feelings for the sake of others."
"Ah, yes; that is what I ought to do," said Arthur with a deep sigh.

"Arthur, dear," said Mrs. Vivyan presently, looking straight into the fire,
and closing her hands very tightly, "don't ever think I do not care or
feel. Oh, you never can know how much I have felt! You know nothing
about the hungry feeling in my heart when I think of my darling,
darling little baby, whom God is taking care of now; and how, when I
see the little bed she used to lie on, and her little frocks and shoes, I feel
something biting in my heart, and as if I must have her in my arms
again. And about you, my own precious boy, God knows how I feel, as
I never could express to you; but I can tell Him, and I do."
And Arthur's mother buried her face again in her hands, and burst into
an agony of weeping. He had never seen her cry like that before, and it
was something quite new to him to see his sweet, gentle mother so
moved. He hardly knew what to say to her; so he rose from his sofa,
and coming close up to her chair, he threw his arms with a fervent
embrace around her, and said softly:
"Never mind, my own dear mother; I will try and bear it."
And then Arthur cried too; for the bitterness of what it would be to bear
it came over him.
"God will bless us both in it, my darling," said his mother; "and He will
take care of us while we are separated, and bring us back to each other
again some day, I trust. But Arthur, my own, am I leaving you in a
loving Saviour's arms? Are you there, folded in His everlasting arms?"
"Mother," said Arthur in a faltering voice, "I do really believe in the
Lord Jesus Christ. I am nearly sure I do. But I don't feel happy. I don't
think much about Him, and it makes me feel frightened when I think
about dying."
"But He says, 'Trust, and not be afraid,' and He says, 'I will never leave
thee nor forsake thee.' Oh, Arthur, I do leave you in His arms! for I am
sure you are there if you trust in Him; and perhaps He is taking me
away so that you may feel His arms, and that it is a very sweet thing to
be there, and to be loved and taken care of for ever. As I do," she added,
"in the midst of all my sorrows."

CHAPTER IV.
LAST DAYS AT ASHTON GRANGE.
Mrs. Estcourt, Mr. Vivyan's only sister, was a widow lady living by
herself. Her home was in the neighbourhood of a large town, and here,
in a comfortable, moderately-sized house, she had lived for many years.
She had no children of her own, and when her husband had died she
had seemed to wish to avoid much intercourse with any one, so that
Arthur knew very little of his aunt. Once or twice he had seen her when
she had paid very short visits at Ashton Grange. He remembered a very
sad-looking lady, with a sweet face, who had held his hand as he stood
by her chair, and that he had half liked it, and felt half awkward as she
spoke to him. He remembered that as he had stood there, he had felt
afraid to move or fidget in the least bit, and that every now and then, as
he had stolen a glance at her, he had seen that her large dark eyes had
been fixed upon him. He had been very glad when the nursery
dinner-bell rang and he was obliged to go, without seeming to wish to
run away.
"Nurse," said Arthur that day at dinner, "there's a black lady down
stairs."
"A black lady!" said nurse; "there's a way to speak of your aunt, Master
Arthur. Mrs. Estcourt is your papa's own sister."
"Well, she looked all black, I know," said Arthur. "I think I won't go
down stairs much while she is there."
Nurse remarked that if he were going to stay she hoped he would be
quiet and well-behaved; but as he had to keep all his quiet behaviour
for the drawing-room, it is to be feared nurse's temper was tried a little
during the few days that Mrs. Estcourt passed at Ashton Grange.
Consequently Arthur's memories of his aunt were not such as to make
him very happy at the prospect of living with her always.
"Mother," said Arthur, on the evening of the day after he had heard
about these strange things that were