We were girls
then; we are matrons now, and with the taking on of that title, Ruth and
I took special and great responsibilities. To-night it rains. Mr. Dennis
has been called to the upper part of the city,--away out to Springdale,
in fact,--to see a sick and dying man, and I am alone and almost lonely.
If I could summon any one of the three to my aid and comfort I would. I
am almost as lonely as I was on some of those evenings in the old
boarding-house. Still there are differences; the smoky old stove is not;
a summer warmth floats through the house, born of steam; no ill-smelling
kerosene lamp offends your aesthetic friend to-night, but the softest of
shaded drop-lights sheds a halo around me. Isn't that almost poetic?
Moreover, oh blessed thought! I have no examination papers to prepare,
no reports to make up; nothing to do but visit with you. Also, I will
admit just to you, that this is another and most blessed difference
between this and my lonely past. At almost any moment now I may hope
for Dr. Dennis' ring, and when he comes all sense of loneliness will
instantly depart. Ah! Flossy, dear Flossy, this is such a difference as
even you cannot appreciate! You had your mother and father, and all your
dear home friends, and I had no one; and besides,--here I hesitate, lest
you may be too obtuse to understand the reasoning,--you have only added
Mr.
Pages:
80
81
82
83
84
85
86
87
88
89
90
91
92
93
94
95
96
97
98
99
100
101
102
103
104