During the whole process, Tackleton stood looking on maliciously
with the half-closed eye; which, whenever it met hers--or caught
it, for it can hardly be said to have ever met another eye: rather
being a kind of trap to snatch it up--augmented her confusion in a
most remarkable degree.

'Why, what a clumsy Dot you are, this afternoon!' said John. 'I
could have done it better myself, I verify believe!'

With these good-natured words, he strode away, and presently was
heard, in company with Boxer, and the old horse, and the cart,
making lively music down the road. What time the dreamy Caleb
still stood, watching his blind daughter, with the same expression
on his face.

'Bertha!' said Caleb, softly. 'What has happened? How changed you
are, my darling, in a few hours--since this morning. YOU silent
and dull all day! What is it? Tell me!'

'Oh father, father!' cried the Blind Girl, bursting into tears.
'Oh my hard, hard fate!'

Caleb drew his hand across his eyes before he answered her.

'But think how cheerful and how happy you have been, Bertha! How
good, and how much loved, by many people.'

'That strikes me to the heart, dear father! Always so mindful of
me! Always so kind to me!'