"Ah, Willie is a sick lad," said the minister sadly. "It 's he who will be the most likely to remember this foolish piece of work. Roy, man, he is too ill to see you—too ill to leave his bed in the other room there for a long while, I 'm afraid. And to think I should have frightened my own Annie's lads so that they ran from my house!"
Roy opened his eyes wide, for, if he could believe them, stern Uncle Robert—harsh Uncle Robert—was crying!
He had sat down again close by the bed, and now Roy stretched out his hand once more and touched the minister's.
"Please don't, Uncle!" he sobbed. "I 'll never run away again—and when Willie gets well, we won't go to sleep in church, or do anything any more!"
And then the queerest thing of all happened, (as Roy told Willie by and by), for Uncle Robert actually leaned over and kissed him!
