“I must go now,” he continued, glancing at the clock, “for it is about eight, and I have several more calls to make. Doubtless you will hear from Harry before long, so don’t be discouraged. Meanwhile, read your Bible and trust in the Lord, and above all things, don’t forget to look this very night at the chapter which I mentioned. You will find something there worth thinking about, and excellent to sleep upon.”
“Yea, verily, I will, friend,” replied the good lady, “and I thank thee much, also, for thy pleasant discourse, although my disappointment at not hearing from Harry has somewhat troubled and confused me.”
“And what would you have done, Mrs. Dorothy, if, upon my entrance, I had taken a big letter at once from my pocket, directed in Harry’s own hand, with a foreign post-mark upon it?”
“Done, Mr. Byers! I should have shed tears of gratitude and joy over it.”
“Very likely; and this is exactly the reason why I should not like to be such a messenger. Good night, Mrs. Dorothy.” After the door closed behind him, Mr. Byers did not proceed directly on his way. Once more he stopped beneath the window, and looked through the overshadowing vines into the room. He saw the good lady re-seat herself by the stand, open the sacred volume, and then heard her quick, joyful exclamation of surprise. It was quite enough for him. Smiling; and rubbing his hands with heartfelt satisfaction, he bent his steps down the lane, in search of some other place and opportunity for the exercise of his active benevolence and ready sympathies.
“COME hither, Bose,” said Aunt Nyna, shortly after the departure of Mr. Byers, “I am minded to talk with thee.”
The faithful old house dog, who lay dozing in the chimney corner, opened his eyes sleepily and drew a long breath. He rose up, and shaking his rough coat, came and sat down beside his mistress--rested his fore paws upon her knees, and gazed up into her face with a knowing, expectant look.
“I am mindful that thou art but a poor, dumb beast, without a soul,” continued the good lady, “yet nevertheless, as I have no other friend in my loneliness, I would fain speak with thee. Dost thee remember Master Harry, Bose? and dost thee know, too, that here I have a letter from him--the first since he left us three months agone? Look at it, poor creature! It is brim-full of hope and affection, and there are even words of kindly remembrance for thee, which would make thy old heart leap for joy, could they be spoken in his own cheery tone.”