Paul found it, and felt as if he must stand to read such praise.

‘Thank you,’ said Alfred.  ’I’m glad Mother and Ellen are there.  They’ll remember us, you know.  Did you hear what Mr. Cope promised me?’

Paul had not heard; and Alfred told him, adding, ’It will be the Ember-week in Lent.  You’ll be one with me then, Paul?’

‘I’d like to promise,’ said Paul fervently; ’but you see, when I’m well—­’

’Oh, you won’t go away for good.  My Lady, or Mr. Cope, will get you work; and I want you to be Mother’s good son instead of me; and a brother to Harold and Ellen.’

‘I’d never go if I could help it,’ said Paul; ’I sometimes wish I’d never got better!  I wish I could change with you, Alfred; nobody would care if ‘twas me; nor I’m sure I shouldn’t.’

‘I should like to get well!’ said Alfred slowly, and sighing.  ’But then you’ve been a much better lad than I was.’

‘I don’t know why you should say that,’ said Paul, with his hand under his chin, rather moodily.  ’But if I thought I could be good and go on well, I would not mind so much.  I say, Alfred, when people round go on being—­like Tom Boldre, you know—­do you think one can always feel that about God being one’s Father, and church home, and all the rest?’

‘I can’t say—­I never tried,’ said Alfred.  ’But you know you can always go to church—­and then the Psalms and Lessons tell you those things.  Well, and you can go to the Holy Sacrament—­I say, Paul, if you take it the first time with me, you’ll always remember me again every time after.’

‘I must be very odd ever to forget you!’ said Paul, not far from crying.  ‘Ha!’ he exclaimed, ‘they are coming out of church!’

‘I want to say one thing more, while I’ve got it in my head,’ said Alfred.  ’Mr. Cope said all this sickness was a cross to me, and I’d got to take it up for our Saviour’s sake.  Well, and then mayn’t yours be being plagued and bullied, without any friends?  I’m sure something like it happened to our Lord; and He never said one word against them.  Isn’t that the way you may be to follow Him?’

Illness and thought had made such things fully plain to Alfred, and his words sank deep into Paul’s mind; but there was not time for any answer, for Harold was heard unlocking the door, and striding up three steps at a time, sending his voice before him.  ’Well, old chaps, have you quarrelled yet?  Have you been jolly together?  I say, Mrs. Crabbe told Ellen that the pudding was put into the boiler at eight o’clock last night; and my Lady and Miss Jane went in to give it a stir!  I’m to bring you home a slice, you know; and Paul will know what a real pudding is like.’

The two boys spent a happy quiet afternoon with Mrs. King; and Charles Hayward brought all the singing boys down, that they might hear the carols outside the window.  Paul, much tired, was in his bed by that time; but his last thought was that ‘Good-will to Men’ had come home to him at last.