Beth brought the book, and then climbed up on his knee, and settled there happily, with her head on his shoulder.
"As I laye a-thynkynge, the golden sun was sinking,
O merrie sang that Bird as it glitter'd on her breast,
With a thousand gorgeous dyes,
While soaring to the skies,
'Mid the stars she seem'd to rise,
As to her nest;
As I laye a-thynkynge, her meaning was exprest:—
'Follow, follow me away,
It boots not to delay,'—
'Twas so she seemed to saye,
'HERE IS REST!'"
After he had read those last lines, there was a moment's silence, and then Beth burst into a tempest of tears. "O papa—papa! No, no, no!" she sobbed. "I couldn't bear it."
"What is the matter with the child?" Mrs. Caldwell exclaimed, starting up.
"'The vision and the faculty divine,' I think," her father answered. "Leave her to me."
Beth was awake when Anne entered the nursery next morning to call the children.
"Get up, and be good," Anne said. "Your pa's ill."
Mrs. Caldwell came into the nursery immediately afterwards, very much agitated. She kissed Beth, and from that moment the child was calm; but there settled upon her pathetic little face a terrible look of age and anxiety.