ever with the same frigid, unchanging manner! How earnestly she
longed for that manifestation of tenderness which she had never
felt! Even the stern father spoke to her in gentler and more subdued
tones than was his wont, and would sometimes stroke the silky hair
from her white forehead, and call her his "poor child."

But it was the fondness of a mother's love for which the little one
yearned, and with unerring instinct she felt that beneath that calm
and cold exterior, the waters of the fountain were still gushing.
Once, when after a day of restless pain she had sunk into an uneasy
slumber, she was aroused by the fervent pressure of that mother's
kiss, and through her half-opening eyelids she perceived the tears
which were flowing over her pale face. In an instant the arms of the
affectionate child were clasped about her neck, and the soft voice
whispered,--

"Dearest mother, do you not love your little Eva?"

But all emotion was instantly repressed, and quietly as ever came
the answer--

"Certainly, my child, I love you all. But lie down now, and take
some rest. You have been dreaming."

"'Twas such a happy dream," murmured the patient little sufferer, as
obedient to her mother's words she again closed her eyes, and lay
motionless upon her pillow. Once more she slept, and a sweet smile
beamed upon her countenance, and her lips moved as if about to
speak. The watchful mother bent over her.