"
"Yes, mother; oh, yes, mother." Deborah felt the beloved head
pressed close to her shoulder and two soft arms fall about her
neck.
"Are you very unhappy? Is my little one pining too much for the
old days?"
A closer pressure of the head, a more vehement clasp of the
encircling arms, but no words.
"You have seemed brighter lately. I have heard you sing now and
then as if the joy of youth was not quite absent from your heart.
Is that true, or were you merely trying to cheer your mother?"
"I am afraid I was trying to cheer the judge," came in low whisper
to her ear. "When I hear his step in the study--that monotonous
tramp, tramp, which we both dread, I feel such an ache here, such
a desire to comfort him, that I try the one little means I have to
divert him from his thoughts. He must be so lonely without--"
"Reuther, you forget how many years have passed since he had a
companion. A man becomes used to loneliness. A judge with heavy
cases on his mind must think and think very closely, you know."
"Oh, mamma, it's not of his cases our judge is thinking when he
walks like that. I know him too well, love him too well, not to
feel the trouble in his step. I may be wrong, but all the sympathy
and understanding I may not give to Oliver I devote to his father,
and when he walks like that he seems to drag my heart after him.
Mamma, mamma, do not blame me. I have just as much affection for
you, and I suffer just as keenly when I see you unhappy.
Pages:
156
157
158
159
160
161
162
163
164
165
166
167
168
169
170
171
172
173
174
175
176
177
178
179
180