Emilie the Peacemaker by Mrs. Thomas Geldart
page 97 of 143 (67%)
page 97 of 143 (67%)
![]() | ![]() |
|
flushed face, she wished that she had not intruded, but she went frankly
up to him, and began talking as indifferently as possible, to give him time to recover himself, said how very cold it was, stirred the fire into a cheerful blaze, and then relapsed into silence. The silence was broken at times by heavy sighs, however--they were from poor Joe. Emilie now went to the piano, and in her clear voice sang softly that beautiful anthem, "I will arise and go to my Father." It was not the first time that Joe had shown something like emotion at the sound of music; now it softened and composed him. "I should like to hear that again," he said, in a voice so unlike his own that Emilie was surprised. She sang it and some others that she thought he would like, and then said, "I hope I have not tired you, but I am afraid you are in pain." "I am," said Joe, in his old gruff uncivil voice, "in great pain." "Can I do any thing for you?" asked Emilie, modestly. "No _nothing_, nothing can be done! I shall have to lie on my back as long as I live, and never walk or stand or do any thing like other boys--but I hope I shan't live long, that's all." Emilie did not attempt to persuade him that it would not be as bad as he thought--that he would adapt himself to his situation, and in time grow reconciled to it. She knew that his mind was in no state to receive such consolation, that it rather needed full and entire sympathy, and this she could and did most sincerely offer. "I am _very_ sorry for you," she said quietly, "_very_ sorry," and she approached a little nearer to his couch, and looked at him so compassionately that Joe believed her. |
|