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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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Marie was one of those unfortunately constituted mortals, in whose eyes what- ever is lost and gone assumes a value which it never had in possession. Whatever she had, she seemed to survey only to pick flaws in it; but, once fairly away, there was no end to her valuation of it. While this conversation was taking place in the parlor, another was going on in St. Clare’s library. Tom, who was always uneasily following his master about, had seen him go to his library, some hours before; and, after vainly walting for him to come out, determined, at last, to make an errand in. He entered softly. St. Clare lay on his lounge, at the further end of the room. He was lying on his face, with Eva’s Bible open before him, at a little distance. Tom walked up, and stood by the sofa. He hesitated; and, while he was hesitating, St. Clare suddenly raised himself up. The honest face, so full of grief, and with such an imploring expression of affection and sympathy, struck his master. He laid his hand on Tom’s and bowed down his forehead on it. “O Tom, my boy, the whole world is as empty as an egg-shell.” “I know it, Mas’r,- I know it,” said Tom; “but, oh, if Mas’r could only look up,- up where our dear Miss Eva is,- up to the dear Lord Jesus!” “Ah, Tom! I do look up; but the trouble is, I don’t see anything, when I do. I wish I could.” Tom sighed heavily. |
