She did not look at me when Dorothy placed her hand in mine, but kept her eyes cast down, the long, black lashes resting upon the fair curves of her cheek like a shadow on the snow.

She murmured a salutation, and when I made a remark that called for a response, she lifted her eyes but seemed not to look at me.

Unconsciously I turned my face toward Dorothy, who closed her eyes and formed with her lips the word "blind." I retained the girl's hand, and she did not withdraw it.

When I caught Dorothy's unspoken word I led Lady Madge to a chair and asked if I might sit beside her.
"Certainly," she answered smilingly; "you know I am blind, but I can hear and speak, and I enjoy having persons I like sit near me that I may touch them now and then while we talk.

If I could only see!" she exclaimed.
Still, there was no tone of complaint in her voice and very little even of regret.