What do you think made the tears come in Aunt Annie's eyes so quickly, though she seemed so glad they must have been tears of joy?
After a while Aunt Annie turned to go home. Why did she put the boughs aside so gently, and step so carefully over the soft moss, as if she feared making any sound. Can you think?
She found Bessie's mother seated at work with a sad face, and her back turned towards the window.
"O," said Aunt Annie, "how dark the room is, with all these heavy curtains! and how still and lonesome it seems here! You must come this moment and take a walk with me out in the sunshine; it will do you good."
Bessie's mother shook her head. "I don't care for sunshine to-day; I would rather be lonely."
Then Aunt Annie knelt by her sister, and looked up with those sweet eyes none could ever refuse. "Not care for sun, because our dear little Bessie has gone to be an angel! O, you must see the field all over buttercups and dandelions, like a sky turned upside down,—it would have pleased her so! and you must see the brook and woods; and then I have such a surprise for you, you'll never be sorry for laying aside your work."
"Is it anything about Bessie?" the mother asked, as they went down the steps, out into the bright, beautiful sunshine.
"Yes, yes! Everything makes you think of her to-day; I can almost see her little footsteps in the grass. A bird somewhere in the wood sung her very name,—and so sweetly, as if he loved her,—'Bessie, Bessie, Bessie,' as if he were thinking of her all the while!"
They reached the wood soon, for Aunt Annie seemed in haste, and hurried Bessie's mother on; though she had grown so happy all at once, that she wanted to wait and look at everything,—the little leaves in the ground, and the grass-blades, and clover, and bees even, seemed to please her.
When you find people sad, there is nothing in all the world so good as to take them out in the sun of a summer day. You must remember this; it is better than most of the Latin prescriptions doctors write.