There was a pause after the first verse, and he restless, and turning
doubtfully to where John Broom sat, as if his sight were failing, he
said, "Ye'll mind your promise, ye'll gang hame?" And after awhile he
repeated the last word.
_"Hame!"_
But as he spoke there settled over his face a smile so tender and so
full of happiness, that John Broom held his breath as he watched him. As
the light of sunrise creeps over the face of some rugged rock, it crept
from chin to brow, and the pale blue eyes shone tranquil, like water
that reflects heaven.
And when it had passed it left them still open, but gems that had lost
their ray.
LUCK GOES.--AND COMES AGAIN.
The spirit does not always falter in its faith because the flesh is
weary with hope deferred. When week after week, month after month, and
year after year, went by and John Broom was not found, the
disappointment seemed to "age" the little ladies, as Thomasina phrased
it. But yet they said to the parson, "We do not regret it."
"God forbid that you should regret it," said he.
And even the lawyer (whose heart was kinder than his tongue) abstained
from taunting them with his prophecies, and said, "The force of habits
of early education is a power as well as that of inherent tendencies. It
is only for your sake that I regret a too romantic benevolence.
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