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Updated: July 21, 2025
It was so mournful that her tears began to flow; and when the Presence which had been beside the Carrier all night, appeared behind her, pointing to her father, they fell down like rain. She heard the Cricket-voice more plainly soon, and was conscious, through her blindness, of the Presence hovering about her father. 'Mary, said the Blind Girl, 'tell me what my home is. What it truly is.
Not merrily, but in a low, faint, sorrowing way. It was so mournful, that her tears began to flow; and, when the Presence which had been beside the Carrier all night, appeared behind her, pointing to her father, they fell down like rain. She heard the Cricket-voice more plainly soon, and was conscious, through her blindness, of the Presence hovering about her father.
How often have I sat in the long winter evenings feeling such society in its cricket-voice, that raising my eyes from my book and looking gratefully towards it, the face reddened by the glow of the shining fire has seemed to relax from its staid expression and to regard me kindly! how often in the summer twilight, when my thoughts have wandered back to a melancholy past, have its regular whisperings recalled them to the calm and peaceful present! how often in the dead tranquillity of night has its bell broken the oppressive silence, and seemed to give me assurance that the old clock was still a faithful watcher at my chamber-door!
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