had left a dreary, dissatisfied feeling with Louis:  it might have been caught from Mary’s involuntary look of disappointment at each incomplete commencement that she encountered,—­the multitude of undertakings hastily begun, laid aside and neglected—­nothing properly carried out.  It seemed a mere waste of life, and dwelt on his spirits, with a weariness of himself and his own want of steadfastness—­a sense of having disappointed her and disappointed himself, and he sighed so heavily several times, that his aunt anxiously asked whether he were in pain.  He was, however, so much better, that no one was to sit up with him at night—­only his father would sleep on a bed on the floor.  As he bade him good night, Louis, for the first time, made the request that he might have his Bible given to him, as well as his little book; and on his father advising him not to attempt the effort of reading, he said, ’Thank you; I think I can read my two verses:  I want to take up my old habits.’

‘Have you really kept up this habit constantly?’ asked his father, with wonder that Louis did not understand.

’Aunt Catharine taught it to us, he said.  ’I neglected it one half-year at school; but I grew so uncomfortable, that I began again.’

The Earl gave the little worn volume, saying, ’Yes, Louis, there has been a thread running through your life.’

‘Has there been one thread?’ sadly mused Louis, as he found the weight of the thick book too much for his weak hands, and his eyes and head too dizzy and confused for more than one verse:—­

     ’I am come that they might have life,
      And that they might have it more abundantly.’’

The Bible sank in his hands, and he fell into a slumber so sound and refreshing, that when he opened his eyes in early morning, he did not at first realize that he was not awakening to health and activity, nor why he had an instinctive dread of moving.  He turned his eyes towards the window, uncurtained, so that he could see the breaking dawn.  The sky, deep blue above, faded and glowed towards the horizon into gold, redder and more radiant below; and in the midst, fast becoming merged in the increasing light, shone the planet Venus, in her pale, calm brilliance.

There was repose and delight in dwelling on that fair morning sky, and Louis lay dreamily gazing, while thoughts passed over his mind, more defined and connected than pain and weakness had as yet permitted.  Since those hours in which he had roused his faculties to meet with approaching death, he had been seldom awake to aught but the sensations of the moment, and had only just become either strong enough, or sufficiently at leisure for anything like reflection.  As he watched the eastern reddening, he could not but revert to the feelings with which he had believed himself at the gate of the City that needs neither sun nor moon to lighten it, and, for the first time, he consciously realized that he was restored to this world of life.