She had never read letters like the mother's letter to her son, so beautiful, affectionate and elevating.

He had always read them to her, and she had had to cry every time from sheer emotion.

She had never before seen as beautiful linen as the boy had worn, and it had all been his two sisters' work.
"Martha," the Director finally interrupted her, "according to your account, it would be a great blessing for my daughter to spend even a day in such a family." "If you would really take her there, Director, I certainly would be happy--ah! I would not know a greater happiness." Martha had to wipe her eyes, she was so stirred.
"You shall know it, Martha.

We'll go tomorrow, and on the same evening you shall hear an account of all that happened." With these words the Director seized her hand, and after shaking it heartily, departed.
"Get everything ready, Cornelli! We are going to town to-morrow," he called to his daughter, who sat on the garden bench quietly thinking.
"Esther shall call you early, at six o'clock." "Indeed, I shall," came Esther's voice through some open window.

She was a good sentinel, for she always seemed to know what was going on in the house and its immediate neighborhood.
Early next morning the two shiny brown horses were trotting down the valley.