Tears sprang to Effie's eyes, for she was both nervous and sensitive to the last degree.
"I know I look well," she said. "I'm not thin, and I have a good color; but it's often brightest when I feel the worst. And I've tried to believe my sickness was all imagination, but I can't; it's too real."
"No, Effie, you do not look well," said Mrs. Keith; "that brilliant bloom hardly belongs to health, and your eyes are heavy, your countenance is distressed."
"Of course she'll wear a distressed countenance as long as she imagines she's sick," observed the schoolma'am severely. "And you, Mrs. Keith, are only making matters worse by talking in that way."
"Not so," said the sick girl, "such kind sympathy does me good. Oh, thank you a thousand times!" as Mrs. Keith put "Dunallan" into her hands. "I shall enjoy it so much, and will be very careful of it, and return it soon. I read it years ago and liked it exceedingly, and it will be new to me now. Grace Kennedy is such a sweet writer; what a pity she died so early!"
"A novel!" sniffed Damaris. "If you are really sick you oughtn't to read anything but the Bible."
"The teachings of this book are so fully in accord with those of the Scriptures, that I can not think it will hurt her," said Mrs. Keith.
"I love the Bible," said Effie, "I never could do without it; its words often come to me when I am sad and suffering and are 'sweeter than honey and the honeycomb,' but reading other good books seems like talking with a Christian friend, and refreshes me in the same way."
At this moment Mrs. Prescott came in and greeting the two callers with a pleasant "Good afternoon," sat down to chat with them.