"No; lie still. I will help myself." And coming round in front of her, he
seated himself close at her side.
"Why look at these, if it makes you sad, my child?" he asked, noticing her
occupation.
"There is sometimes a sweetness in the tears called forth by pleasant
memories of loved ones gone before, papa," she said. "These anniversaries
will recall the dear husband who always remembered his little wife so
kindly upon each, and there is a melancholy pleasure in looking over his
Christmas gifts, I have them all here, beginning with this--the very
first. Do you remember it, papa? And this Christmas day when he gave it to
me? the first Christmas that you were with me."
She was holding up a tiny gold thimble.
"Yes, I think I do," he said. "I certainly remember the day, the first
Christmas after my return from Europe, the first on which I heard myself
addressed as papa--the sweetest of child voices calling me that, and
wishing me a merry Christmas, as the dearest, loveliest of little girls
ran into my arms. Dear daughter, what a priceless treasure you have been
to me ever since!" he added, bending over her and softly smoothing her
hair.
Pages:
120
121
122
123
124
125
126
127
128
129
130
131
132
133
134
135
136
137
138
139
140
141
142
143
144