"I hope it will amuse you," said poor Kate, the tears springing to her eyes, at such unwonted depression and contrariety, on her grandfather's part.
Tea over; and the remaining day-light of a summer's evening—which, in town, has anything but a cheering effect—shut out, Miss Vernon lit the candles, and, after a diligent search, unearthed a small and rather delapidated footstool, from beneath the sofa, which she placed under the Colonel's feet, endeavouring, with unwearied sweetness, to cheer him, and draw him from himself, and his position, till, at length, he gave the wished-for command—
"Read some of that book for me, my dear."
"Yes, dearest grandpapa; and as poor nurse is all alone, among strangers, may I ask her to bring in her work, and listen too?"
"Certainly—certainly."
This was quickly done; and Kate's object, to provide amusement for the Colonel, fulfilled, as nurse's shrewd remarks on whatever subject was brought before her, were sure to interest and amuse her indulgent master.
He leaned back his head, and closed his eyes, as if but half inclined to listen; soon, however, the varied modulations of Kate's musical, intellectual voice, and the sound of familiar names, fixed his attention, and transported him, in imagination, to other scenes and other times; and, at length, fully drawn from the contemplation of the present, it was with something of his old brightness of eyes, and lightness of step, that the Colonel retired for the night.
"Well, Nelly, those were pleasant times, and right good fellows. I think Lever has hit off some of them capitally; yet I could give him a few hints, hey? Kate, good night, my love—I will take a walk with you to-morrow."
And Kate laid her head on her pillow, blessing Lever for having effected by his light-hearted, familiar style, what no writer, however profound, or grand, pathetic, or even religious, would in all probability have accomplished.