As
for you, nature has not given you the physical ability for great
endurance. You cannot overtask yourself without a derangement of
machinery."
How reluctantly, and with what a feeling of weakness, Claire
acquiesced in this decision, the reader may imagine.
The morning found him something better, but not well enough to sit up.
Mrs. Claire had, by this time, recovered in a measure her calmness and
confidence. She had thought much, during the sleepless hours of the
preceding night, and though the future was far from opening clearly
to her straining vision, her mind rested in a well-assured confidence
that all things would work together for their good. She knew in whom
she trusted. On the Rock of Ages she had built the habitation where
dwelt her higher hopes; and the storms of this world had no power to
prevail against it.
How little dreamed gentle Fanny Elder--or Fanny Claire, as she
was called--when she laid her cheek lovingly to that of her sick
"father"--she knew him by no other name--and drew her arms around his
neck, that he was suffering alone on her account. In her unselfish
love, Claire felt a sweet compensation--while all he endured on her
account had the effect to draw her, as it were, into his very heart.
As quickly as it could be done, Mrs. Claire got through with the most
pressing of her morning duties, and then, the older children away to
school, she came and sat down by her husband's bedside, and took his
hand in hers.
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