I am never tired, you know,
of hearing about him.--Now, was I ever?' she said, hastily.
'Of course not,' answered Caleb, 'and with reason.'
'Ah! With how much reason!' cried the Blind Girl. With such
fervency, that Caleb, though his motives were so pure, could not
endure to meet her face; but dropped his eyes, as if she could have
read in them his innocent deceit.
'Then, tell me again about him, dear father,' said Bertha. 'Many
times again! His face is benevolent, kind, and tender. Honest and
true, I am sure it is. The manly heart that tries to cloak all
favours with a show of roughness and unwillingness, beats in its
every look and glance.'
'And makes it noble!' added Caleb, in his quiet desperation.
'And makes it noble!' cried the Blind Girl. 'He is older than May,
father.'
'Ye-es,' said Caleb, reluctantly. 'He's a little older than May.
But that don't signify.'
'Oh father, yes! To be his patient companion in infirmity and age;
to be his gentle nurse in sickness, and his constant friend in
suffering and sorrow; to know no weariness in working for his sake;
to watch him, tend him, sit beside his bed and talk to him awake,
and pray for him asleep; what privileges these would be! What
opportunities for proving all her truth and devotion to him! Would
she do all this, dear father?
'No doubt of it,' said Caleb.
Pages:
53
54
55
56
57
58
59
60
61
62
63
64
65
66
67
68
69
70
71
72
73
74
75
76
77