of the other.

"Sit thee down, dear friend, and listen to what will give thee joy for
my sake now, and thine own hereafter. My son, who was dead, is alive
again.".

Armstrong was at a loss to divine the meaning of his visitor. He took
it for some figurative form of expression, and, without making any
reply, passed his hand over his forehead, as if trying to recall some
idea.

Holden read his thoughts. "Thou dost not understand," he said. "Know
then that the child perished not with the mother."

"My friend," said Armstrong, who had now complete command of himself,
"you do not reflect that I cannot understand your allusions. Explain
to me, that I may participate in your joy."

"The child of my youth, he whom I lost, whom I mourned for so many
years as dead, is alive," exclaimed Holden, in tones of irrepressible
emotion.

"I give you joy," said Armstrong, grasping his hand. "But you never
mentioned you had a son. How have you lost, and how found him?"

"It is the Lord's doing, and it is marvelous in our eyes," said
Holden. "Not long since thou didst tell of an unhappy man, round whom
afflictions had gathered. Now will I tell thee of another not less
wretched, the clouds of whose sorrow the setting sun is gilding. Be it
unto thee for a lesson of hope, for I tell thee, James, that assuredly