"Are you, then, so very anxious to go to Virginia?" he repeated, after a pause.
"I am. I want to be near father."
"Well, I will see what I can do with him. If I fail, recollect that he is not proverbial for pliability. Look here—are you nervous? Your fingers twitch, and so do your eyelids, occasionally, and your pulse is twenty beats too quick."
"I believe I am rather nervous to-day."
"Why so?"
"I did not sleep last night; that is one cause, I suppose."
"And the reason why you did not sleep? Be honest with me."
"My thoughts, sir, were very painful. Do you wonder at it in the present state of the country?"
"Irene, answer me one question, dear child: what does the future contain for you? What hope have you?—what do you live for?"
"I have much to be grateful for—much that makes me happy, and I hope to do some good in the world while I live. I want to be useful—to feel that I have gladdened some hearts, strengthened some desponding spirits, carried balm to some hearth-stones, shed some happiness on the paths of those who walk near me through life."