"Bless her heart! It would be dull here if 'tweren't for Polly, wouldn't
it? Let's see, I've a new game somewhere, from Boston; it's bits of
rhyme and scraps of knowledge, I believe; I never played it, but perhaps
you and Morton can make it out," and soon the two were seated, bending
over a light stand, quite happy for the nonce.
Meanwhile, baby was so impressed with the dignity and solemnity of the
occasion that he kept his round eyes fixed unwinkingly upon the parrot
(who occasionally addressed a remark to him), until the weary lids
closed, and he dropped his sleepy little head over against Sara's
shoulder.
Then she and Miss Prue had a long, delightsome talk, in which she told
her good friend all about the Grandet party, the order of the King's
Daughters, those beautiful, impressive books of Hale's, and something--
not a great deal, for Sara was naturally reticent of her inner life--of
the hopes and longings kindled by them in her soul.
As the kind old maid watched her noble, expressive face, and noted the
clinging little figure in her arms, she sighed, wondering,--
"Is here to be another life-long sacrifice? Are these sparkling,
youthful hopes to settle down into the dull, smouldering fires of duty--
a fire which will always boil the domestic kettle, and warm the family
hearth, but never be a beacon-light on the hill of effort, to help the
world onward?" Then she checked herself.
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