At a Girl's Mercy, or, The Fortunes of War — page 111: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

100 AT A GIRL'S MERCY. those bells retain their color, Miss Nan. They are as blue as the heavens, and match the pink of the roses. 1 trust your mother is improving.” He had said this in different ways every morning of her mother’s illness, but never had she heard it ‘vith such kindly feeling toward him, and never had she answered him with the gentleness of this morn- ing. She leaned her sunny, curly head against the door-post, and there came a mist into the far away looking eyes as she said, low and softly: ‘Mamma is nearly the same, Mr. Blake. I do so miss her about the house. Will she never recover?” He made no advances of friendliness. He was learning wisdom in this wooing of his neighbor’s daughter. If she had known it, she had more cause to fear him that morning than ever before. He had mapped out his manner of action, and would follow it to-the end, and the end—— There was a deeper tone of sympathy in his voice as he answered her, but that was all. He did not even allow his eyes to reston her face—the quivering girlish face raised so earnestly to him. ‘You must not lose faith, Miss Nan. Your mother will recover. It was a terrible blow, but she has enough vitality to withstand even that, 1 am sure. She is too kind a hostess to get on without. Cour- tesy is such a sweet thing in a woman !”’ She felt rebuked somehow, and her old antag- onism was coming back. He had been so unlike him- self that she had nearly forgotten their unpleasant relations toward each other. He saw the tenderness dying from her face, and straightened himself. He would give her no chance for unpleasant words. He would leave a kindly feeling this »nce, at least. ‘“At least lam glad she is no worse, Miss Nan, \ ' 7 r gn > - . y * Gage ~ : rat, rm as he 3 ie ibm