I should enjoy my walk all the more." "If you really wish me to go, I shall be delighted," she responded, as the brightness came again to her face.

"I sometimes grow weary, and, I confess, a little sad sitting alone when Dorothy cannot be with me.

Aunt Dorothy, now that she has her magnifying glasses,--spectacles, I think they are called,--devotes all her time to reading, and dislikes to be interrupted." "I wish it very much," I said, surprised by the real eagerness of my desire, and unconsciously endeavoring to keep out of the tones of my voice a part of that eagerness.
"I shall take you at your word," she said.

"I will go to my room to get my hat and cloak." She rose and began to grope her way toward the door, holding out her white, expressive hands in front of her.

It was pitiful and beautiful to see her, and my emotions welled up in my throat till I could hardly speak.
"Permit me to give you my hand," I said huskily.