but truth sometimes irritates by the way and time in which it is spoken,
and it seems in this case that the _kind_ of truth you told did not
exactly suit the state of the boy's mind. Edith did not say this of
course to the good lady, whose intentions were excellent, but who was
rather too much disposed to be severe on young persona, and certainly
Joe had tried her in many ways.

"I will go and see whether Joe would like to see Edith may I, madam,
asked Fred?" Permission was given.

"My sister is here, Joe, you have often heard me mention her, would you
like to see her?"

"Oh, I don't know, my back is so bad. Oh dear me, and your father tells
me I am to lie flat in this way, months. What am I to do all through
the Christmas holidays too? Oh! dear, dear me. Well, yes, she may come
up."

With this not very gracious invitation little Edith stepped upstairs,
and being of a very tender nature, no sooner did she see poor Joe's
suffering state than she began to cry. They were tears of such genuine
sympathy, such exquisite tenderness, that they touched Joe. He did not
withdraw the hand she held, and felt even sorry when she herself took
hers away. "How sorry I am for you!" said Edith, when she could speak,
"but may I come and read to you sometimes, and wait upon you when there
is no one else? I think I could amuse you a little, and it might pass
the time away. I only mean when you have no one better, you know."

Joe's permission was not very cordial, he was so afraid of girls'
_flummery_, as he called it "She plays backgammon and chess, Joe, and I