Blind -- Fiction; Guardian and ward -- Fiction; Love stories; Marriage -- Fiction; Mental illness -- Fiction
They then talked together of a plan concerning Edith, after which
Arthur left his brother to the repose he so much needed ere
joining them in the parlor below. Never before had pillows seemed
so soft or bed so grateful as that on which Richard laid him down
to rest, and sleep was just touching his heavy eyelids, when upon
the door there came a gentle rap, accompanied with the words,
"P'eae, Uncle 'Ick, let Nina tome. She's all dressed up so nice."
That little girl had crept way down into Richard's heart, just as
she did into every body's, and he admitted her at once, suffering
her to climb up beside him, where, with her fat, dimpled hands
folded together, she sat talking to him in her sweet baby
language,
"'Ess go to sleep, Nina tired," she said at last, and folding his
arms about her, Richard held her to his bosom as if she had been
his own. "'Tain't time to say p'ayers, is it?" she asked, fearing
lest she should omit her duty; and when Richard inquired what her
prayers were, she answered,
"Now I lay me--and God bess Uncle 'Ick. Mam-ma tell me that."
Richard's eyes filled with tears, which the waxen fingers wiped
away, and when somewhat later Victor cautiously looked in, he saw
them sleeping there together, Nina's golden head nestled in
Richard's neck, and one of her little hands lain upon his cheek.
Meantime, in Edith's room Arthur was virtually superintending the
making of his wife's evening toilet, a most unprecedented
employment for mankind in general, and him in particular. But for
some reason wholly inexplicable to Edith, Arthur was unusually
anxious about her personal appearance, suggesting among other
things that she should wear a thin pink muslin, which he knew so
well became her dark style of beauty; and when she reminded him of
its shortcomings with regard to waist and sleeves, he answered
playfully,
"That does not matter. 'Twill make you look girlish and young."
So Edith donned the pink dress, and clasping upon her neck and
arms the delicate ornaments made from Nina's hair, asked of
Arthur, "How she looked."
"Splendidly," he replied, "Handsomer even than on our bridal
night."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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