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Support the Monkey! Tell All your Friends and Teachers |
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Support the Monkey! Tell All your Friends and Teachers |
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all this smiling outside was but a hollow shell over a heart that was a dark and si- lent sepulchre? “Mr. St. Clare is a singular man,” said Marie to Miss Ophelia, in a complain- ing tone. “I used to think, if there was anything in the world he did love, it was our dear little Eva; but he seems to be forgetting her very easily. I cannot ever get him to talk about her. I really did think he would show more feeling!” “Still waters run deepest, they used to tell me,” said Miss Ophelia, oracularly. “O, I don’t believe in such things; it’s all talk. If people have feeling, they will show it,- they can’t help it; but, then, it’s a great misfortune to have feeling. I’d rather have been made like St. Clare. My feelings prey upon me so!” “Sure, Missis, Mas’r St. Clare is gettin’ thin as a shader. They say, he don’t never eat nothin’,” said Mammy. “I know he don’t forget Miss Eva; I know there couldn’t nobody,- dear, little, blessed cretur!” she added, wiping her eyes. “Well, at all events, he has no consideration for me,” said Marie; “he hasn’t spoken one word of sympathy, and he must know how much more a mother feels than any man can.” “The heart knoweth its own bitterness,” said Miss Ophelia, gravely. “That’s just what I think. I know just what I feel,- nobody else seems to. Eva used to, but she is gone!” and Marie lay back on her lounge, and began to sob dis- consolately. |
