It was a pleasure to listen to it. Frank had often heard her
read, but it seemed to him never with such expression as at that moment.
The sunlight, falling through the small west window, illuminated her
face, making it almost radiant, and touched with brighter tints Elsie's
crown of golden hair.
"I wish I were a painter!" he thought. "I should like to preserve that
scene. If I could have that to hang in my room, it would be like a flash
of sunshine to look at. But no painter could do it justice. There are
certain things that can't be painted, and this is one of them."
He noisily shifted his feet to call attention to his presence, and Inza
looked up. The color flooded her cheeks, and her dark eyes showed
surprise.
"Why, Frank!" she gasped. "How did you come to be here?"
Elsie also started up.
"How did you get in?" she asked.
"Opened the door and walked in. You were so busy you didn't hear my
knock, so I just took the liberty."
Mrs. Moran stirred, and turning feebly, looked at him, her eyes showing
recognition.
"I am very glad to see you!" she whispered, as he advanced toward the
bed, and she stretched out one of the feeble hands. "Sometimes I think
that I am not long for this world. I should have died here, I feel sure,
if it had not been for these girls.
Pages:
28
29
30
31
32
33
34
35
36
37
38
39
40
41
42
43
44
45
46
47
48
49
50
51
52