"God will send the same frame of mind to all who care to go to Him,"
was the reply. "Sir," and now Jenkins dropped his voice, "I was grieved
to hear about Mr. Roland. I could not have thought it."
"Ay; it was unwelcome news, for his own sake."
"I never supposed but that the post-office must have been to blame. I
think, Mr. Arthur, he must have done it in a dream; as one, I mean, who
has not his full faculties about him. I hope the Earl of Carrick will
take care of him. I hope he will live to come back a good, brave man!
If he would only act less on impulse and more on principle, it would be
better for him. Little Master Charles has been ill, I hear, sir? I
should like to see him."
"I will bring him to see you," replied Arthur.
"Will you, sir?" and Jenkins's face lighted up. "I should like just to
set eyes on him once again. But--it must be very soon, Mr. Arthur."
"You think so?" murmured Arthur.
"I know it, sir--I feel it. I do not say it before my wife, sir, for I
don't think she sees herself that I am so near the end, and it would
only grieve her. It _will_ grieve her, sir, whenever it comes, though
she may not care to show people that it does. I shall see you again, I
hope, Mr. Arthur?"
"That you shall be sure to do. I will not miss a day now, without
coming in. It will do me good to see you, Jenkins; to hear you tell me,
again, of your happy state of resignation."
"It is better than resignation, Mr.
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