“And that side porch overlooks the lake?”
“Yes. The sitting-room opens upon it, and at this hour we are likely to find the family gathered there.”
They were there at that moment; the early tea had been partaken of and cleared away, and the grandmother with her knitting and Miriam with her sewing had seated themselves near the hammock in which Ronald, pale-faced and thin, and with his left arm in a sling, swung slowly to and fro. The two little folks were present also; Olive turning over the leaves of a picture-book, Bertie, a little apart from the others, trying to teach his dog Frisk a new trick.
Ronald was a dark-eyed, handsome youth, but just now haggard and worn; hardly more than the ghost of himself, as Miriam had said again and again in tremulous tones and with eyes full of tears since, less than a fortnight ago, he had come home to her to be nursed back—if such were the will of Providence—to the health and strength of which wounds and months of languishing in rebel prisons had deprived him.
His return was matter of great rejoicing to each member of the household, yet their joy was tempered with many a pang at thought of his sufferings, past and present, and of the dear parents who would return no more.
“Grandma and Mirry,” he said, breaking a silence which had fallen upon them for a few moments, “this is paradise. What a luxury to breathe this pure, sweet air; to gaze on your flower-garden there, so full of beauty and sweetness; the green grass, the waving trees, and the lake beyond! How its waters sparkle in the light of the setting sun!”
“Yes, we have a lovely and delightful home here,” responded his grandmother.
“And you are one of those who appreciate their mercies, Ronald,” Miriam added, with tender look and tone.
“I doubt if I am an unusually thankful person,” he said, glancing around at her with a patient smile; “but no one who has spent weeks and months shut up in a squalid, filthy prison, devoured by vermin and fed upon food a dog would turn from, could help enjoying such a change as this.”
“Tell us some more ’bout it, Brother Ronald,” pleaded a child’s voice at his other side.