Stranica 183 [183]
OCR
135 was in high spirits, and however fatigued or thoughtful Harry Maylie might have been at first, he was not proof against the worthy gentleman’s humour, which displayed itself in a great variety of sallies and professional recollections, and an abundance of small jokes, which struck ever heard, and caused him to laugh proportionately, to the evident satisfaction of the doctor, who laughed immoderately at himself, and made Harry laugh almost as heartily by the very force of sympathy. So they were as pleasant a party as, under the circumstances, they could well have been, and it was late before they retired, with hight and thankful hearts, to take that rest of which, after the doubt and suspense they had recently undergone, they stood so much in need. Oliver rose next morning in better heart, and went about his usual early occupatiens with more hope and pleasure than he had known for many days. The birds were once more hung out to sing in air jlaces, and the sweetest wild s that could be found were once aithered to gladden Rose with their et and fragrance. The melancholy which had seemed to the sad eyes of the anxious boy to hang for days past over every object, beautiful as they all were, was dispelled as though by magic. The dew seemed to sparkle more brightly on the green leaves, the air to rustle among "them with a sweeter music, and the sky ner old | is the influence which the condition of our own thoughts exercises even over the aparance of external objects. Men who look on nature and their fellow men, and ery that all is dark and gloomy, are in the right; but the sombre colours are reflected from their own jaundiced eyes and hearts, The real hues are delicate, and require a clearer vision. It is worthy of remark, and Oliver did not fail to note at the time, that his morning expeditions were no longer made alone. Harry Maylie, after the very first morning when he met Oliver coming laden home, was seized with such a passion for flowers, and displayed such a taste in their arrangement, as left his young companion far behind. If Oliver were behindhand in these respects, however, he knew where the best were to be found, and morning after morning they scoured the country together, and brought home the fairest that blossomed. The window of the young lady’s chamber was opened now, for she loved to feel the rich sum mer air stream in and revive her with its freshness; but there always stood in water, just inside the lattice, one particular little bunch which was made up with oreat care every morning. Oliver could not help noticing that the withered flowers were never thrown away, although the little vase was regularly replenished ; nor could he help observing that whenever the doctor came into the garden he lar corner, and nodded his head most expressively as he set forth on his morning’s walk. Pending these observations, the days were flying by, and Rose was rapidly and surely recovering. Nor did Oliver’s time hang heavy upon his hands, although the young lady had not yet left her chamber, and there were no evening walks, save now and then for a short distance with Mrs. Maylie. He applied himself with redoubled assiduity to the instructions of the white-headed old gentleman, and faboured so hard that his quick progress surprised even himself. Ít was while he was engaged in this pursuit that he was greatly startled and distressed by a most unexpected occurrence. The little room in which he was accustomed to sit when busy at his books was on the und-floor, at the back of the house. It was quite a cottage-room, with a lattice-window, around which were clusters of jessamine and honey-suckle, that crept over the casement, and filled the lace with their delicious perfume. It ooked into a garden, whence a wicketond was fine meadow-land and wood. here was no other dwelling near, in that direction, and the prospect it commanded was very extensive. One beautiful evening, when the first shades of twilight were beginning to settle upon the earth, Oliver sat at this window intent upon his books. He had been poring over them for some time; and as the day had been uncommonly sultry and he had exerted himself a great deal, it is no disparagement to the authors, whoever they may have been, to say that gradually and by slow degrees he fell! asleep. There is a kind of sleep that steals upon us sometimes which, while it holds the body prisoner, does not free the mind from a sense of things about it, and enable it to ramble as it pleases. So far as an overpowering heaviness, a prostration of strength, and an utter inability to control our thoughts or power of motion, can be called sleep, this is it; and yet we have a consciousness of all that is going on
