It was very quiet in the room after that; papa lay with his eyes
closed, and I could see how badly he looked. He was very pale,--kind of
a greyish white,--his eyes were sunk 'way in, and there were quite big
hollows in his temples and his cheeks. I wondered if he knew that he
had nearly died, and that we had prayed for him in church; then I
thought of the figure of the angel that we'd seen in the clouds that
afternoon in the schoolroom, and of the Beautiful City--"O mother dear,
Jerusalem"--where everything is lovely and everybody so happy, and I
wondered again if papa were sorry or glad that he was going to get
better. You see he would have had dear mamma there, and been with the
King "in His felicity;" but then he wouldn't have had the Fetich or
his books!
Suddenly papa opened his eyes and looked at me. "Jack," he said,
"suppose you take another seat,--over there behind the curtain. I
will call you if I need anything."
He told Nannie afterward--and she told me, so I shouldn't do it
again--that I'd "stared him out of countenance." I was awfully sorry; I
wouldn't have done such a rude thing for the world, you know,--I didn't
even know I was doing it; but, as I've told you before, when I'm alone
with papa, I somehow just _have_ to look and look at him.
Pages:
185
186
187
188
189
190
191
192
193
194
195
196
197
198
199
200
201
202
203
204
205
206
207
208
209