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Updated: June 13, 2025
"I do not know why you should miss me, but it makes me so glad to hear you say so. I have no one to really love me in the wide, wide world, that is, whose love I can claim as a right, and sometimes the thought makes me desolate." She sat for awhile silently stroking my hair. "I do not think yours will be a desolate, or lonely life, Medoline. It is only the selfish who are punished in that way.
"Why do I never see or hear anything from Mr. Winthrop? you say he has forgiven me; but he has not so much as sent me a message, or flower since I came to myself." "Why, Medoline, did you not know?" "Know what?" I asked, interrupting her, "has he gone away with Mrs. Le Grande?" I had forgotten for the moment that Mrs. Le Grande was even weaker than myself.
"On the contrary, I have had better news than usual from him in his last few letters; but, dear, I may have other anxieties than merely personal ones." "Our anxieties should send us to God's house, and not keep us away don't you think?" "Yes, in most cases. Some day I may explain all this to you, Medoline; but not now."
We all want you more than we can tell." "Then I am forgiven, and you will trust me once more," I pleaded softly. "Yes, Medoline, as I expect to be trusted by you," he said, with a solemnity that made me tremble.
"No, indeed, Medoline does not confine her kindness to those poor folk alone," Mrs. Flaxman interposed. "You do not seek for the sorrowful elsewhere, I hope?" "The heavy-hearted are not confined to that locality alone, Mr. Winthrop."
Bowen might be thrilled by just such a vision of delight. I turned abruptly to tell Mrs. Flaxman I could never go back to the old life of selfish ease, when such opportunities for helpfulness were given me, when I met her face to face. She gave me a look I will never forget. "Medoline, can you forgive me those unjust suspicions?"
Flaxman then will enlighten me as to the bent of your ambition," he said, quite too authoritatively for my liking, and turned towards her. "Our conversation drifted to personal endeavor. We were talking of many things, when Medoline, just as you came in, expressed the wish to be helpful to others rather than to shine in cold and stately splendor." "Ah, yes.
Flaxman were in the habit now of doing so; but my strength was so rapidly waning I could neither see nor hear very distinctly. After a few seconds, once more rallying all my forces, I looked up again. "Who is it?" I whispered. "Do you not know me, Medoline?" "Is it," I paused, trembling so with excitement I could scarce articulate, "is it Mr. Winthrop?" "Yes, little one."
I looked up quickly to speak my thanks, but kept silent. "Yes, Medoline is the only one of us that tries to do her duty by others. She has helped the poor more in the few months she has been here, than I have done in nearly twenty years." "But she confines her benefits to the poor and bereaved solely. She seems to forget the prosperous may be heavy-hearted," Mr. Winthrop suggested with a smile.
"Glad that you have given me pain?" I asked, with an odd feeling as if I wanted to burst into a fit of childish weeping. He left his chair and came to my side. "Why do you look so sorrowful, Medoline? I meant that it gave me pleasure that you were my friend. I did not think that you cared for me." "I am surprised at myself for caring so much for you when you are so hard on me.
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