At a Girl's Mercy, or, The Fortunes of War — page 158: what you’re looking at

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

AT A GIRL’S MERCY. 147 geance for her answer to his suit. Not that she cared for herself, for she had not the slightest fear of him, for herself, but she would do all. she could to keep her father from more worry and anxiety than had already befallen him. Now, as she looked search- ingly up in her father’s face, seamed with so many years, the latter of which had been so full of worry, that even his sturdy nature must yield to its influ- ence, she realized that he was growing old, and weak, and stooping about the shoulders, that had seemed to her from her earliest remembrance, the strongest, proudest shoulders man could possess, and she could not bear to think that it was through any forgetfulness, on her part of his comfort, that any new trouble had fallen upon him. ‘Poor papa,’’ she said tenderly, giving the arm she held an affectionate little pressure, feeling, with a pang at her heart, how his usually firm step was weakened. ‘‘Poor, dear papa. You are bothering over something that will seem so much lighter when once you have told your little Nan. I am so truly anxious to know, that you cannot refuse to tell me. Come, here is your chair, and here am I at your feet in our pretty confessional, and you are to tell me, without one speck of fear, all that there is in your heart. Don’t keep a thing back, papa dear; it will do you good to tell your Nan.”’ She stroked softly and lightly the hand upon his knee, and watched him with loving eyes, her lifted — face tender with sympathy that touched the strong » man’s heart as words could not have done. She had learned so thoroughly in the past year how to reach his heart to comfort him, now especially since her mother was unable to fill her part to the brave old squire. She had so studied to comfort him, and sure- o) Eomichoo co