tures of this world, she could talk
with the angels, and could hear what the heavenly voices said to her in
return.

The moment she was touched on the shoulder, she looked up, and nestled
close to her adopted mother; who, passing one arm round her neck,
explained to her, by means of the manual signs of the deaf and dumb
alphabet, what Valentine was saying at that moment.

Nothing was more characteristic of Mrs. Blyth's warm sympathies and
affectionate consideration for Madonna than this little action. The
kindest people rarely think it necessary, however well practiced in
communicating by the fingers with the deaf, to keep them informed of any
ordinary conversation which may be proceeding in their presence. Wise
disquisitions, witty sayings, curious stories, are conveyed to their
minds by sympathizing friends and relatives, as a matter of course; but
the little chatty nothings of everyday talk, which most pleasantly and
constantly employ our speaking and address our hearing faculties,
are thought too slight and fugitive in their nature to be worthy of
transmission by interpreting fingers or pens, and are consequently
seldom or never communicated to the deaf. No deprivation attending their
affliction is more severely felt by them than the special deprivation
which thus ensues; and which exiles their sympathies, in a great
measure, from all share in the familiar social interests of life around
them.

Mrs. Blyth's kind heart, quick intelligence, and devoted affection for
her adopted child, had long since impressed it on her, as the first
of duties and pleasures, to prevent Madonna from feeling the excluding
influences of her calamity, while in the society of others, by keeping
her well informed of every one of the many conversations, whether
jesting or earnest, that were held in her presence, in the invalid-room.
For years and years past, Mrs. Blyth's nimble fingers had been
accustomed to interpret all that was said by her bedside before the deaf
and dumb girl, as they were interpreting for her now.

"Just stop me, Lavvie, if I miss anything out, in making sure that I've
got all that's wanted for everybody's drawing lesson," said Valentine,
preparing to reckon up the list of his materials correctly, by placing
his right forefinger on his left thumb. "First, there's the statue that
all my students are to draw from--the Dying Gladiator. Secondly,
the drawing-boards and paper. Thirdly, the black and white chalk.
Fourthly