“I saw the carriage stop, sir, a short time since, below the hill, and some persons get out. I think the ladies,” she replied. A rap upon the door, and Mr. Norton entered.
The invalid reached forth his emaciated hand, while a smile of pleasure lit up his features. Grasping it warmly within his own, Mr. Norton said —
“I am delighted to see you so much better, Mr. Edridge. Dr. Warner tells me, if this fine weather continues, we may take you home with us—although, I don’t know that you will thank me for carrying you away from this beautiful place, for every time I ascend this hill and breathe its pure atmosphere, I feel like a young man again. It is, indeed, a delightful situation, just the place for a hospital.”
Tears filled the dark eyes of the invalid, as returning the pressure of Mr. Norton, he said—“Kindness such as has been bestowed upon an object as unworthy as myself, Heaven alone can repay. Could I once have received but one ray, I should not now have to mourn over misspent time and degraded talents.”
“Oh, don’t think of the past,” interrupted Mr. Norton, “you have many long years of usefulness yet before you. You must not be sad. I left Ellen and Lucy at the foot of the hill to gather flowers, they preferred ascending on foot—but here they are, and they must cheer you.”
At this moment nurse ushered them in; and as the former approached, an expression of holy joy irradiated his noble features, as with extended hand, she said—“Mr. Edridge—well then, Arthur if you will—we are, indeed, pleased to see you so much better.”
“But he seems to have a slight touch of the blues! You must not let that be, girls,” said Mr. Norton, laughingly.
“Mr. Edridge,” said Lucy, with a merry smile, “if you did not know it before, you certainly will learn by this,” (presenting him a bouquet of gay wild flowers,) “that I am an inveterate enemy to every thing of a sombre hue.”
“And myself, also,” responded Ellen.
“Miss Lincoln,” he continued, with a still deeper tone of sadness, “if you had the same power to renew the wasted energies of the mind, and blot out from the pages of memory the dark characters of the past, as you seem to possess, to lead the rebellious, blackened heart to the fount of purifying Love, no gleam but that of joy, should ever emanate from my grateful heart.”