“So much depends upon the appearance of anything for an invalid, Luke Ross,” he said, smiling with pleasure as he went on. “I have to make things look very attractive sometimes if I want her to eat. Now, then, I think that we shall do.”
“Shall I cut the bunch for you, Mr Mallow?” said Luke, as he saw, with a feeling of apprehension, that the old man was about to mount the frail steps.
“Cut—cut the bunch?” said the Rector, looking at him aghast, “Oh, dear no; I could not let any one touch them but myself. No—no disrespect, my young friend,” he said, apologetically, “but she is very weak, and I have to tempt her to eat. My dear boy—I mean my dear Mr Ross—if she thought that any hand had touched them but mine she would not eat them; and it is by these little things that I have been able to keep her alive so long.”
He sat down on the top of the steps as he spoke, and smiled blandly from his throne.
“You will not feel hurt, Mr Ross?” he said, gently. “I appreciate your kindness. You are afraid that I shall fall, but I am very cautious. See how much time I take.”
He smiled pleasantly as he went on with his task, rising carefully, taking tightly hold of the stout wires that supported the vine, and steadying himself on the top of the steps till he felt quite safe, when, letting go his hold, he placed the basket tenderly beneath the perfect bunch of grapes, raising it a little till the fruit lay in the bed of leaves prepared for its repose, and then there was a sharp snip of the scissors at the stalk, and the old man looked down with a sort of serene joy in his countenance.
“Are they not lovely?” he said, as he carefully descended, until he stood in safety upon the red-brick floor.
He held up the basket of violet-bloomed berries for his visitor to see, smiling with pleasure as he saw the openly-displayed admiration for the beautiful fruit.
“They make her so happy,” said the old man, with tears standing in his eyes. “Don’t think me weak, Mr Ross. It is a sad thing, all these many years, sir, to be confined to her couch, helpless, and dependent on those who love her,” said the old man, again dreamily, as he gazed down at the grapes.
“Think you weak, Mr Mallow,” cried Luke, with energy. “No, sir; I thank God that we have such men as you on earth.”