d not set eyes on their stall yet.
But the thought was soon followed by one of shame for her ingratitude, and
when she reached the market at last she felt she would not for all the
world have had things other than they were, or have come at any other
time. For there, behind the stall--now showing large empty spaces made by
many purchasers--sat her father, looking more perfectly happy and content
than she had ever remembered seeing him. And there, beside him, stood
Margery, looking on at everything with an intensely interested face.
Aunt Emma was hovering between the poultry and the flowers, trying hard to
serve two customers at once, while even Tom, though so much more
accustomed to it, seemed puzzled to know which customer to serve first,
so many were coming to him for fruit or vegetables, or to leave orders for
things to be delivered through the week, or to be brought there on the
following Saturday. Charlie was bustling around, lending every one a
hand.
And then Bella noticed that her father was taking charge of the till,
and her eyes grew blurred with tears when she saw the pleasure on his face
as one after the other they went to him for change. He was helping them
again, he too was taking part, and at their first stall too, and his
evident joy in it was so pathetic that she had to turn away to recover
herself before she could go up and let them know that she had come.
CHAPTER XII.
SUCCESS.
Two years have passed away since William Hender drove in to see his
children open their first stall in Norton Market, and now, to-day, he is
waiting for them once more by the old milestone.
Many a weary mile of life has he trodden painfully since last he stood
there, a strong, hale man. Many a Hill of Despair has he faced, and
Valley of Despondency; many a time has he wondered if he could ever reach
the top of the hill which rose before him, the hill of disappointed hopes.
It had seemed to him at times that as soon as he reached the top of one
another had sprung up beyond, sometimes whole ranges of hills of pain,
helplessness, weakness.
There had been many pleasant miles too, when he had paused by the sunny
wayside 'To hear the angels sing,' and had gone on his way again refreshed
and thankful for all God's goodness to him. And now he had, for the first
time, walked to the old milestone again, to await his children's return--
walked it without help or pain; and as he stood there waiting his heart
was very
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