his nature.

It was the wish of Mr. Grey, that Lucy should be sent to school with the
children of her age, but she objected strongly, as it would take her so
much from Robin; so, a governess was employed in the house and whatever
Lucy learned, she repeated to her brother, who drank in her lessons so
eagerly, that he soon became her equal in everything except the power to
read and write. Particularly was he interested in the countries of
Europe, which he hoped to visit some day, in company with his sister.

"Not that I can ever see them," he said, "but I shall know just how they
look, because you will describe them so vividly, and I can hear the dash
of the sea at Naples, and feel the old pavements in Pompeii, and the
hot lava of Vesuvius. And, oh, perhaps we will go to the Holy Land, and
stand just where Christ once stood, and you will see the hills He looked
upon, and the spot on which He suffered. And I shall be so glad and
somehow feel nearer to Him. And, oh, if He could be there as He was
once--a man, you know--I'd cry to Him louder than ever old Bartimeus
did, and tell Him I was a little blind boy from America, but that I
loved Him, and wanted Him to make me see. And He would, I know."

Such were the dreams of the enthusiastic boy, but they were never to be
realized. Always delicate as a child, he grew more and more so as he
became older, so that at last all mental labor was put aside, and when
he was sixteen, and Lucy nineteen, they took him to St. Augustine, where
he could hear the moan of the sea and fancy it was the Mediterranean in
far-off Italy. Lucy was of course with him, and made him see everything
with her eyes, and took him to the old fort and led him upon the sea
wall and through the narrow streets and out beneath the orange trees,
where he liked best to sit and feel the soft, warm air upon his face and