To laugh at locksmiths
was an easy thing compared with the reading of this riddle!
On the morning when Eliab was brought to Mulberry Hill, Mrs.
Le Moyne and Mollie breakfasted together alone in the room of the
former. Both were troubled at the absence of the master of the
house.
"I cannot see why he does not come," said Mrs. Le Moyne. "He is
the soul of punctuality, and is never absent from a meal when about
home. He sent in word by Laura early this morning that he would not
be at breakfast, and that we should not wait for him, but gave no
sort of reason. I don't understand it."
"I hope he is not sick. You don't think he has the fever, do you?"
said Mollie, with evident anxiety.
The elder woman glanced keenly at her as she replied in a careless
tone:
"Oh, no indeed. You have no occasion for anxiety. I told Laura to
take him a cup of coffee and a roll in his room, but she says he
is not there. I suppose something about the plantation requires his
attention. It is very kind of you, I am sure; but I have no doubt
he is quite well."
There was something in the tone as well as the words which cut
the young girl to the heart. She could not tell what it was. She
did not dream that it was aimed at herself. She only knew that
it sounded harsh and cold, and unkind. Her heart was very tender.
Sickness and love had thrown her off her guard against sneers
and hardness.
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