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On his face, in which the simplicity of childhood seemed to have reappeared, was a knowing, amused look, expressing infinite relish of some inward thought, the simple essence of mischief. Bars of sunlight, just like those, used to lie on the schoolroom floor when he was a little boy, and was sent to Dame Gartney's school to be kept out of harm's way, and to learn what he might.
"There's beauty waiting to be born, And harmony that makes no sound; And bear we ever, unawares, A glory that hath not been crowned." Shall I try to give you a glimpse of quite another young life than Faith Gartney's?
"Well, Miss Faith," said the doctor, after the usual greetings, and a prolonged look at Mr. Gartney's flushed face, "what have you done to your father?" "I've been reading the paper," answered Faith, quietly, "and talking a little." "Mother!" said Mr. Gartney, catching his wife's hand, as she came round to find a seat near him, "are you really in the plot, too?"
I guess we all want some kind of cotyledons." Mrs. Gartney's eyes shone with affection, and something that affection called there, as she looked upon her daughter. "I guess the cotyledons won't hinder your growing," said she. And so, in a few days after, Mahala was dismissed, and Faith took upon herself new duties.
"No I won't take off my things," she replied to Mrs. Gartney's advance of assistance. "I've just come over to tell you what I'm going to do. I've made up my mind to take the minister to board. And when the washing and ironing's out of the way, next week, I shall fix up a room for him, and he'll come." "That's a capital plan, Aunt Faith!" said her nephew, with a tone of pleased animation.
This was likely, from the rapid growth and improvement in the neighborhood, to become, within a few years, perhaps, a property of some importance. The other letter was from his son, James Gartney, in San Francisco. The young man urged his father to consider whether it might not be a good idea for him to come out and join him in California. James Gartney's proposal evidently roused his attention.
Until one morning, some three weeks from the beginning of Mr. Gartney's illness, when, after a few days' letting alone the whole subject, he suddenly appealed to the doctor. "Doctor," said he, as that gentleman entered, "I must have Braybrook up here this afternoon. I dropped things just where I stood, you know. It's time to take an observation." The doctor looked at his patient gravely.
"How shall we get along if you do not live?" asked his wife, in a low, anxious tone. "My life's insured," was all Mr. Gartney's answer. "Father!" cried Faith, distressfully. Faith had been taken more and more into counsel and confidence with her parents since the time of the illness that had brought them all so close together.
With finery, with bustle, with important presence. Miss Gartney's engagement had been sudden; her marriage was to be speedy.
He had dyspepsia, too; and now and then came home early from the counting room with a headache that sent him to his bed. Dr. Gracie dropped in, friendly-wise, of an evening said little that was strictly professional but held his hand a second longer, perhaps, than he would have done for a mere greeting, and looked rather scrutinizingly at him when Mr. Gartney's eyes were turned another way.
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