Part 14 (2/2)

But Mr. Garland was not admiring their beauty or their gentle expression. He saw something else in Preston's eyes which startled him and gave him a pang. Not tears, for those had been dashed away, but a sort of thin mist lay over them, like that which veils the sun in cloudy weather.

”Can it be possible? Why, Preston, why, Preston, my boy,” said Mr.

Garland, taking the young face gently between his hands, ”when did things begin to blur so and look dim to you?”

Preston did not answer.

”Tell me; don't be afraid.”

”It's been,” replied Preston, choking, ”it's been a long while. The sun isn't so bright somehow as it was; and oh, Mr. Garland, the print in my books isn't so black as it used to be! But I didn't want to make a fuss about it, and have father know it.”

”Why not?”

”Oh, he'd give me medicine, I suppose.”

”My boy, my poor boy, you ought to have told him.”

”Do you think so? Well, I hoped I'd get better, you know.”

”Preston, is this the reason you don't learn your lessons any better?”

”I don't know. Yes, sir, I think so. I can't read the words in my books very well.”

”You poor, blessed child! Growing blind,” thought Mr. Garland; but did not say the words aloud.

”And I have to sit in the sun to see.”

”I wish I had known this before, and I wouldn't have complained when you had bad lessons. Why didn't you tell me, you patient soul!”

”Oh, I don't know, sir; you didn't ask me.”

”Good night,” said Mr. Garland, in an unsteady voice. ”And don't you study to-morrow one word. You may sit and draw pictures all day long if you like.”

Preston smiled. He did not know what made his dear teacher say this, and place his hand on his shoulder so tenderly; but he was glad of it, very glad; for now it was certain that Mr. Garland would not blame him any more; and he ran home with a light heart.

CHAPTER X.

BLACKDROP.

”Oh, we had such an elegant time up there on the bank! only the boys came and plagued us,” cried Flaxie, bursting into the house, followed by Milly.

She said it to her papa, but he did not appear to listen. He sat holding Preston on his knee, and looking at him sadly.

Then Flaxie turned to her mother.

”Why, mamma, w.i.l.l.y Patten threw kisses to me when he was a boy, and wasn't my cousin!”

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