But the day was gloomy, and
there was no sunlight to mark the hour. Solitary snowflakes were
drifting irresolutely across the window, as if uncertain whether to go
on earthward or return whence they came. The birds sat on the bare
branches near the window waiting for their breakfast in ruffled
impatience, the blue jay having done his best to call her to the window
earlier. And he said so, in his own way, as she scattered the crumbs
with a cheery good morning.
When she went down to breakfast, the family received her much as the
birds had done. Her coming cheered them also, as if a sunbeam had
entered the dark room. Miss Penelope left off what she was saying about
the calamities that must be expected in consequence of the comet's tail
coming loose from its head. The widow Broadnax relaxed her watch for a
moment, as the fair young figure came toward the hearth and stood by her
chair, resting a hand on her shoulder. The judge brightened, without
knowing what it was that suddenly heartened him, and David came out of
his corner under the stairs, as he never did, unless she was in the
room.
Pages:
354
355
356
357
358
359
360
361
362
363
364
365
366
367
368
369
370
371
372
373
374
375
376
377
378