and very cross since my accident; I have
had my heart filled with thoughts of malice and revenge,
and to _you_. I have not felt as though I could forgive
you, and I have often told Emilie and Edith this; but
they have not known how wickedly I have felt to you,
nor how much I now need to ask your forgiveness for
thoughts which, in my helpless state, were as bad as actions.
Often, as I saw you run out in the snow to slide
or skate, I have wished (don't hate me for it) that you
might fall and break your leg or your arm, that you might
know a little of what I suffered. Thank God, all that is
passed away, and I now do not write so much to say I
forgive you, for I believe from my heart you only meant
to tease me a little, not to hurt me, but to ask you to pardon
me for thoughts far worse and more evil than your
thoughtless mischief to me. Will you all believe me, too,
when I say that I would not take my past, lonely, miserable
feelings back again, to be the healthiest, most active
boy on earth. Emilie has been a good friend to me, may
God bless her, and bless you all for your patience and
kindness to.

JOS. WHITE.

Pray do not ask me to come back to you to night, I
cannot indeed. I am not unhappy, but since my illness
my spirits are weak, and I can bear very little; your
kindness has been too much.

J.W.

The contents of the little box were now displayed. It was the only
costly present on that Christmas tree, full as it was, and rich in love.
The present was a little silver inkstand, with a dove in the centre,
bearing not an olive branch, but a little scroll in its beak, with these
words, which Emilie had suggested, and being a favourite German proverb
of hers. I will give it in her own language, in which by the bye it was
engraved. She had written the letter containing the order for the plate
to a fellow-countryman of hers, in London, and had forgotten to specify
that the motto must be in English; but never mind, she translated it for
them, and I will translate it for you. "Friede ernaehrt, unfriede
verzehrt." "In peace we bloom, in discord we consume." The inkstand was
for Mr. and Mrs. Parker, and the slip of paper said it was from their
grateful friend, Joe White. That was the secret. Emilie had kept it
well; they rather laughed at her for not translating the motto, but no
matter, she had taught them all a German phrase by the mistake.

Where was she gone? she