But he must have suffered very much, for, at the end of a month, he looked like a man who had himself walked through the valley and shadow of death.

About this time Dr.Morrison began to drop in for an hour or two every evening; sometimes he took his cup of tea with the young men, and then he always talked with David on passing events in such a way as to interest without fatiguing the sick man.

His first visit of this kind was marked by a very affecting scene.

He stood a moment looking at Robert and then taking David's hand, he laid it in Robert's.

But the young men had come to a perfect reconciliation one midnight when the first gleam of consciousness visited the sick man, and Dr.Morrison was delighted to see them grasp each other with a smile, while David stooped and lovingly touched his friend's brow.
"Doctor, it was my fault," whispered Robert.