Illness had increased his irritability, and so far from submitting
patiently to the confinement and restriction imposed, he was quite
fuming with impatience to be allowed to sit up and amuse himself at
least.
How ingenious is affection in contriving alleviations! Here Joe sadly
wanted some one whose wits were quickened by love. Mrs. Barton nursed
him admirably; he was kept very neat and nice, and his room always had a
clean tidy appearance; but it lacked the little tokens of love which
oft-times turn the sick chamber into a kind of paradise. No flowers, no
little contrivances for amusement, no delicate article of food to tempt
his sickly appetite. Poor Joe! Edith soon saw this, and yet it needs
experience in illness to adapt one's self to sick nursing. Besides she
was afraid, she did not like to offer books and flowers, and these
visits were quite dreaded by her.
"Will you not go and see Joe, Emilie?" asked Edith, one day of her
friend, as she was recounting the difficulties in her way. "You get at
people's hearts much better than ever I could do.
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