There was a great sob which prevented Tom’s reply. He did not know even then—only God knew—what had been accomplished during the summer months on the Sutherland Plantation.
“Have the books been distributed, Miss Lillie?” asked Tom when he could find voice.
“No, only two or three were taken by Jimmy to read. Then our illuminated text—that one you said was prettier than all the rest, ‘We would see Jesus’—we had put up first over your chair. We have a little table that papa sent down, and my velvet chair stays there now, and last Sunday the back was covered with a beautiful wreath of flowers.”
Tom looked out again through dim eyes over the white fields, and thought of the promise: “He that goeth forth weeping, bearing precious seed, shall doubtless come again with joy, bringing his sheaves with him.” Tom thought he had a harvest.
Just then Mr. Sutherland opened the door and came in, and coming up to Tom’s chair, asked him “how he was.”
“Very happy indeed, sir,” replied Tom with a quiet smile.
“What would you like most in the world just at this minute?” asked Mr. Sutherland, whose heart always went out warmly toward the boy who had saved his child.
Tom’s eyes grew a little wistful. “I should like most of all to see my sister Martha,” said he; “but next to that,” he added, smiling, “I would like to have you read to me, Mr. Sutherland.”
So Mr. Sutherland sat down by the sick boy and read to Tom until the sunlight faded.
“That was the next best thing to seeing Martha, sir,” said Tom gratefully as he finished. “I am very much obliged to you.”