And again the
stillness was enforced by a sign and whispered word, but with eyes
that beamed out their bright thoughts of hope. Jem sat by the side
of the bed, holding back the little curtain, and gazing as if he
could never gaze his fill at the pale, wasted face, so marbled and
so chiselled in its wan outline.
She wakened once more; her soft eyes opened, and met his overbending
look. She smiled gently, as a baby does when it sees its mother
tending its little cot; and continued her innocent, infantine gaze
into his face, as if the sight gave her much unconscious pleasure.
But by-and-by a different expression came into her sweet eyes; a
look of memory and intelligence; her white flesh flushed the
brightest rosy red, and with feeble motion she tried to hide her
head in the pillow.
It required all Jem's self-control to do what he knew and felt to be
necessary, to call Mrs. Sturgis, who was quietly dozing by the
fireside; and that done, he felt almost obliged to leave the room to
keep down the happy agitation which would gush out in every feature,
every gesture, and every tone.
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