suffer himself to be held, and only yielded to Marlene's entreaties.
When, for a second, the doctor removed his hand from his unveiled eyes,
he had raised a cry of surprise and delight.

Marlene started; then she too proceeded to undergo the ordeal without a
murmur. Tears gushed from her eyes, and she shook from head to foot,
hastily tying on the bandage. The doctor helped them to carry her into
the adjoining room, for her knees knocked together, and she could
hardly stand. There, stretched on her little conch, she had a long
alternation of sleep and faintness; while the boy declared himself to
be quite well, and only his father's serious orders induced him to go
to bed. To go to sleep was not so easy. Confused visions of forms and
colors,--colors for the first time,--flitted across his brain;
mysterious forms that had as yet been nothing to him, and were now to
be so much, if those were right who wished him joy. He asked a thousand
questions while his father and mother sat by his bedside--riddles not
yet expounded by the deepest science. For what can science tell us,
after all, of the hidden springs of life? His father entreated
him to be patient; with God's help, ere long, he would be able to
resolve these doubts himself; at present, quiet was the one thing
needful--especially to Marlene, whom he must not wake by talking. This
silenced him, and listening at the wall, he whispered a petition that
the door between them might be left ajar, in order that he might hear
whether she slept or if she was in pain. When his mother had done his
bidding, he lay quite still, and listened to the breathing of his
little sleeping friend; and the quiet rhythm as it rose and fell, sang
him like a lullaby to sleep.

Thus they lay for hours. The village was much more still than usual.
Those who had to pass the vicarage with carts, took every possible
precaution against noise. Even the village-children, warned, most
likely, by their master, in place of running riot on coming out of
school as usual, went quietly by in couples to their remotest
playgrounds, whispering as they passed, and looking up at the house
with wistful eyes. The birds alone among the branches did not hush
their song. But when did a bird's voice ever vex or weary child of man,
be he ever so sorely in need of rest?

Only by the bells of the homebound flocks, were the children at last
awakened. The boy's first question was for Marlene, and whether she had
been asking f