among her subjects,
half unconscious as yet of the power in her hands, they nodded to one
another, and then shook their heads as if they said,--
"I'm afraid the time is coming, mother."
"No danger as long as she don't know it, father."
At nine the boys went off to the barn, the farmer to wind up the
eight-day clock, and the housewife to see how the baked beans and Indian
pudding for to-morrow were getting on in the oven. Ralph took up his hat
to go, saying as he looked at the shade on the tall student lamp,--
"What a good light that gives! I can see it as I go home every night,
and it burns up here like a beacon. I always look for it, and it hardly
ever fails to be burning. Sort of cheers up the way, you know, when I'm
tired or low in my mind."
"Then I'm very glad I got it. I liked the shape, but the boys laughed
at it as they did at my bulrushes in a ginger-jar over there. I'd been
reading about 'household art,' and I thought I'd try a little," answered
Merry, laughing at her own whims.
"You've got a better sort of household art, I think, for you make people
happy and places pretty, without fussing over it. This room is ever so
much improved every time I come, though I hardly see what it is except
the flowers," said Ralph, looking from the girl to the tall calla that
bent its white cup above her as if to pour its dew upon her head.
"Isn't that lovely? I tried to draw it--the shape was so graceful I
wanted to keep it. But I couldn't. Isn't it a pity such beautiful things
won't last forever?" and Merry looked regretfully at the half-faded one
that grew beside the fresh blossom.
"I can keep it for you. It would look well in plaster. May I?" asked
Ralph.
"Thank you, I should like that very much. Take the real one as a
model--please do; there are more coming, and this will brighten up your
room for a day or two."
As she spoke, Merry cut the stem, and, adding two or three of the great
green leaves, put the handsome flower in his hand with so much good-will
that he felt as if he had received a very precious gift. Then he said
good-night so gratefully that Merry's hand quite tingled with the grasp
of his, and went away, often looking backward through the darkness to
where the light burned brightly on the hill-top--the beacon kindled by
an unconscious Hero for a young Leander swimming gallantly against wind
and tide toward the goal of his ambition.
Chapter XVII. Down at Molly's
"Now, my dears
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