"My food has lost all flavor," he said to his mother, "and I cannot get
any good sleep. I am very unhappy."

"Well, my dear," she answered, "if you don't turn your suffering into
some sort of gain, you'll be a great loser. But if you turn it into
patience or good hope or good temper you will make gain out of it. You
will buy it with a price. You will pay yourself down for it. It will be
yours forever. To be plain with you, John, you have been peevish all day
long. I wouldn't if I were you. Nothing makes life taste so bitter in
your mouth as a peevish temper."

"Why, mother! What do you mean?"

"Just what I say, John, and it is not like you. You have no real
trouble. Jane Harlow is having what any girl would call a happy time.
There is nothing wrong in it. She does not forget you, and you must not
make troubles out of nothing, or else real troubles are sure to come.
Surely you know _who_ to go to in your trouble?"

"Yes! Yes! In anxiety and fear we learn how necessary it was that God
should come to us as man. 'It is our flesh that we seek and that we find
in the Godhead. It is a face like my face that receives me, a Man like
to me that I love and am loved by forever.' I have learned how necessary
the revelation of Christ was in these lonely weeks. I did not know I was
cross. I will mend that."

"Do, my dear. It isn't like John Hatton to be cross. No, it isn't!"

Slowly the winter passed. John went several times to London during it
and was kindly and honorably entertained by Lord Harlow during his