"Who is it? Be kind, please, and tell me."
"I'm going to tell you," said Mrs. Tree, "if you will have patience for two minutes, and not drive every idea out of my head with your talk. I had a visitor last night, Mary—some one came to see me—an old acquaintance—some one who had seen Willie lately. Now Mary Jaquith, if you don't sit down,—well, of all the unreasonable women I ever saw!"
The blind woman had stretched out her arms with a heavenly gesture of appeal,—of welcome, of love unutterable,—and in a moment more her son's arms were about her and he was crying over and over again, "Mother, mother, mother!" as if he could not have enough of that word.
FOOTNOTE:
[79] An adaptation by Grace Arlington Owen.
THE PORTRAIT
Robert Bulwer Lytton
Midnight past! Not a sound of aught
Through the silent house, but the wind at his prayers.