So Lubin and his sisters departed, Dick remaining behind, rather thoughtful than sad. He was a changed boy from what he had been at the time when he had bounded over the brook, bearing the ladder of Spelling aloft; or when he had laughed at Lubin for his struggle with Alphabet, the strong little dwarf. Dick had become weak, so he could feel for weakness; an accident had swept away the best part of his wealth, so that he had a fellow-feeling for the poor. Dick had become more gentle, more humble, more kind; that which he had deemed a terrible misfortune, that which had laid him on a bed of sickness, had been in truth one of the happiest events of his life. He had gained much more than he had lost.
Dick sat for some time in eager expectation of his mother's arrival, listening to every noise, and keeping his watchful eye on the road which he could see through the open door. At last there was a sound as of advancing steps and eager voices; weak as he still was, Dick sprang to his feet, and in another minute, to his great delight, he was clasped to the heart of his mother.
CHAPTER XXIX.
EMPTY AND FURNISHED.
OU find the poor cottage in a sad state," was Dick's melancholy observation, as his mother, after the first loving greeting, seated herself at his side, holding his thin hand in her own, and looking tenderly at his pale features.
"O mother, if you had only seen it before the fire!" exclaimed Nelly; "it was beautiful—quite beautiful—so much better furnished than any of ours!"
"It will be beautiful again," said Dame Desley, cheerfully; "my boy only wants a little more Time-money when his strength is perfectly restored. And I can see," she added, rising and opening the back-door, through which she could view the garden, "that great pains were once taken here."
"I have not been able to attend to it since my illness," said Dick; "but as soon as I am able to set to work again, I will try to get all into order."