Charles had been watching at the door; he too had offered up a silent earnest prayer; he was now by her side in a moment, and led her to her papa’s room. She tapped at his door.
“Come in, my little woman,” Mr. Howard said, in a glad voice, but without raising his eyes from his book. “I am so relieved to hear your little tap; I have been seeking you, Leila. Where have you been during this frightful storm? Why don’t you come in, love?”
“Come to the door, dear papa, but do not open it, till I speak to you.”
Mr. Howard rose. “What pleasant little surprise are you preparing for me, my child?” he said, as he stood with his hand upon the lock.
“Papa, dear papa, it is not a pleasant surprise; but you will try to bear it.”
The sound of her voice startled him, and Mr. Howard opened the door in the greatest alarm. Leila fell into his arms.
“Papa,” she said, as she clung to him and repeatedly kissed his cheek, “papa, you will bear it; God has done it. He knows best. He has struck me blind!”
Mr. Howard groaned aloud; he clasped Leila more closely in his arms—he looked upon her face—he could not speak.
Charles, in a trembling voice, related all that had taken place.