To-day I stood by his chair, holding his head and whispering such
consoling passages as I thought might comfort him, when James burst
in, singing and tossing his cap in the air.
"Come here, young man, and hear my last testimony. I am about to die.
The end draws near," were the sepulchral words that made him bring
his song to an abrupt close.
"I shall take it very ill of you, sir," quoth James, "if you go and
die before giving me that cane you promised me."
Who could die decently under such circumstances? The poor old man
revived immediately, but looked a good deal injured. After James had
gone out, he said:
"It is very painful to one who stands on the very verge of the
eternal world to see the young so thoughtless."
"But James is not thoughtless," I said. "It is only his merry way."
"Daughter Katherine," he went on, "you are very kind to the old man,
and you will have your reward. But I wish I could feel sure of your
state before God. I greatly fear you deceive yourself, and that the
ground of your hope is delusive."
I felt the blood rush to my face. At first I was staggered a good
deal. But is a mortal man who cannot judge of his own state to decide
mine? It is true he sees my faults; anybody can, who looks. But he
does not see my prayers, or my tears of shame and sorrow; he does not
know how many hasty words I repress; how earnestly I am aiming, all
the day long, to do right in all the little details of life.
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