THE CARNATION. 95 



* I will take you to her :' and then, with great 

 tenderness lifting the boy in her arms, who at eight 

 years old, had the length (not height, for he could 

 not stand) of ten or twelve, she preceeded us into 

 the adjoining room ; which was in so dilapidated 

 a state that light penetrated the roof in many 

 places, where the covering of turf had sunk in 

 between the open rafters, presenting an aspect 

 of great poverty* and accounting for the rheu 

 matic pains to which the inmate was subject. 



The dame lay on her very humble but clean 

 bed: and a^ain I shrunk back. Her face was 

 drawn into innumerable wrinkles, its expression 

 indicating great suffering, and something about the 

 eyelids that gave a vague idea of the forcible ex- 

 tinction of sight. She seemed a personification 

 of misery, and there was a heavy vacant look that 

 almost discouraged me from speaking to her. Still 

 I strove against the repugnant feeling, and spoke 

 gently and kindly, inquiring how she felt herself. 



'Very poorly, indeed, lady,' she answered, 

 without any movement ; ' my poor bones ache so. 

 that I can get no rest.' 



' But your soul rests — does it not ? — in the love 

 )f the Lord Jesus-' 



' It does — blessed be my gracious Lord !' 



1 Well, I am come, at the request of our dear 

 Mr. H. and his sister to see you.' 



In a moment her hands were raised to grasp a 



