"Here he is, really!" exclaimed Amy, as Dora re-entered the cottage, followed by Frank. "I am sure, Stephen, you did not quite believe us."
Stephen only answered by taking Frank's hand in his, while, for a few moments, he fixed a deep, earnest gaze upon every feature of his countenance.
"Yes, it's like, very like," at length he said, in a low voice, as if speaking to himself; "like his mother, like all her family; but I could have loved it better if it had been different."
"Oh Stephen!" exclaimed Amy, who had caught the words, notwithstanding the tone in which they were spoken, "if you say so, Frank will think you are not glad to see him."
"No," replied Stephen, "there was never one of the name of Harrington that could think that yet, Miss Amy. The young gentleman will learn soon enough that it does my very heart good to look at him; but 'tis natural for an old man to think most of them that are gone—and, somehow, 'twas a foolish fancy, but I thought that maybe he might have his father's face too; but he hasn't not half so much as the young lady there; and she must be like Master Edward, for the people at the Hall tell me he was the very image of the master."
Dora had moved to the window on the first allusion to her brother, but, struck with Stephen's manner, she now came forward, and said, "Do you remember what any of us were like, Stephen, when we left Emmerton?"
"Remember!" repeated the old man. "Who wouldn't remember those who were as his own children? Ah! Miss Harrington, 'twas a sad day when the master told me he was going; but 'twould have been still more sad if I had known that there was one who was never to return."
Dora tried to restrain the tears which glistened in her eyes; and again she would have turned away, but Stephen prevented her. "And did you love him then so much," he said, earnestly, forgetting, at the sight of her distress, the neglect and indifference which he had so much felt. "Ah! 'twas right and natural, for he was the flower of all; and bitter it must have been to lose him, for 'twas your first sorrow; but if God should spare you to live as many years as I have done, Miss Harrington, you will learn, when you lay your treasures in the cold earth, to thank God for taking them out of a sinful world."
"It is hard for Miss Harrington to think so now, Stephen," said Miss
Morton, fearing lest his words and manner might increase Dora's grief.
"At her age there is so much to hope for, that it is impossible to
expect it."
"And I don't expect it," said Stephen; "I only tell her so now, that she may think of my words when I am gone; and I know that they are true, for I have felt it. I had four once, and I loved them all as my own life. The master himself and the family were not nearer to me, nor so near as they were; and when the first of them was carried to his grave, I thought that my heart would have broke; but God gave me to think better afterwards, for He sent me many a hard trial; and so, when my spirit was turned in a manner from the earth, He called for all the rest, one after another; and I watched them till the hour of their death, and heard that their trust was in Him; and then I laid them to their rest, and blessed Him for His mercy, for I knew that sickness and sorrow might knock at my door, but they could never knock at theirs."