"How different here, where our own pleasant woods are shading the graves where my master and mistress are lying side by side. The birds singing among the branches, and the deer grazing peacefully round the two grave-stones that bear their names."
"When old Flor's weary eyes are closed, and there is no one alive to tend them, they will soon be overgrown with moss and brushwood; and in the woods where these two hid their happiness from the world, their rest is hidden--and there, please God, shall mine be."
BLIND.
[BLIND.]
CHAPTER I.
At a window which opened over a little flower-garden, stood the blind daughter of the village sexton, and sought revival from the wind as it blew over her hot face. The delicate half-grown figure shook, and the small cold hands lay clasped upon the windowsill.
Farther back in the room, sat a blind boy, on a stool before the old spinet, playing restless melodies. He might be about fifteen; scarcely a year older than the girl. No one who saw and heard him, as he lifted up his large open eyes, or bent his head towards the window, could have guessed him to be so afflicted--there was so much security, nay, vehemence, in his movements.
He broke off suddenly, in the midst of a sacred song that had been running wild beneath his fingers.