beds, to judge whether the moment had come
when that famishing hunger might be appeased by the crumb which for
these mortal hours had lain upon her craving heart--the very first
since the one on the arrival at Milbank.

Each brown head was shrouded in the coverings, the long dark fringes
rested safely on the cheeks, and Averil at length drew out the
treasure, and laid it on her hand to dwell on its very sight. The
address needed to be looked at with lingering earnestness, as if it had
indeed been a missive from another world; she looked, and was tardy to
unfold it, as though, now the moment was come, the sense of being in
communication with her brother must be tasted to the utmost, ere
entering on the utterances that must give pain; and when she did open
the envelope, perhaps the first sensation was disappointment--the lines
were not near enough together, the writing not small enough, to satisfy
even the first glance of the yearning eye. It was cheerful, it spoke
of good health, and full occupation, with the use of books, daily
exercise, the chaplain's visits, schooling and attendance at chapel,
and of the great pleasure of having heard from her. 'And that good Dr.
May inclosed your letter in one written to me with his own hand, a
kindness I never dared to think of as possible, but which he promises
to repeat. Your letter and his are the continual food of my thoughts,
and are valued beyond all power of words. I only hope you knew that I
have not been allowed to write sooner, and have not expected letters.'
Then came a few brief comments on her last inquiries, and entreaties
that she would give him full information of all details of their
present life: 'It will carry me along with you, and I shall live with
you, both as I read, and as I dwell on it afterwards. Do not indulge
in a moment's uneasiness about me, for I am well, and busy; every one
is as kind to me as duty permits, and Dr. May is always ready to do all
in his power for me.' There were a few affectionate words for Henry,
and 'I long to send a message to the children, but I know it is better
for them to let me drop from their minds, only you must tell me all
about them; I want to know that the dear little Minna is bright and
happy again.'

No confidences, only generalities; not even any reference to the one
unbroken bond of union, the one support, except in the three scanty
final words, the simplest of blessings. It was not satisfying; but
Averil rec