From: Holyoak <ha...@ze...> - 2009-12-27 00:08:40
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To the tropical warmth of the room, he dropped on the floor, exhausted and unconscious. It was a long time before Mrs. Estel succeeded in thoroughly reviving him. Then he lay on a wide divan with his head on her lap, and talked quietly of his trouble. He was too worn out to cry, even when he took the soft curls from his pocket to show her. But her own recent loss had made her vision keen, and she saw the depth of suffering in the boy's white face. As she twisted the curls around her finger and thought of her own fair-haired little one, with the deep snow drifting over its grave, her tears fell fast. She made a sudden resolution. "You shall come here," she said. "I thought when my little Dorothy died I could never bear to hear a child's voice again, knowing that hers was still. But such grief is selfish. We will help each other bear ours together. Would you like to come, dear?" Steven sat up, trembling in his great excitement. "O Mrs. Estel!" he cried, "couldn't you take Ro |