oon to the Mill Road. Cook
had prepared some special dainties for Mrs. Larkum; so with a small lunch
basket on my arm I started on my errand of mercy.

I had been standing at my easel a good part of the forenoon, and the
satisfaction that comes from faithful work done, together with the
assurance from Mrs. Larkum that my visits carried with them something
better than sunshine, I trod swiftly over the frozen streets, quite
content with life and its developments. I met Dr. MacKenzie on the way.
He stopped to shake hands, and with an almost boyish eagerness, said:
"Have you heard the news?"

"Not anything special. I hope you have some good news for me."

"Well, our friend Mr. Bowen has been heard from. The doctor has performed
his miracle."

"Can he see as well as ever?" I cried joyously.

"I believe so."

I could not keep back the troublesome tears. "I am so glad you told me,"
I murmured, and then nodded my adieus rather abruptly, for I was ashamed
of my emotion. It seemed perfectly fitting to me, as I walked briskly
along, that Dr. MacKenzie should be the first to tell me the news; for,
but for him, we should never have thought of making the experiment. That
very evening I met him at a party at Mrs. Silas Markham's, when he gave
me the full particulars I was too tender hearted to hear in the morning.
In answer to his inquiries, the occulist had written to him some special
circumstances of the case. He described Mr. Bowen's extreme patience.
"Such an instance of perfect trust in God is refreshing to meet with,"
he wrote; "and but for this his case would probably have proved hopeless,
since it was one of the worst cases we have treated successfully."

"His religion has helped him wonderfully all through his terrible
affliction. I wonder will he be just as devout as ever?" I said.

"I think so. He is not made of the stuff that forgets favors received
from God or man."

"I think he will have stronger reasons than mere gratitude to keep him
close to the Lord," I said, thinking of the joy he had in communion with
the Divine, even amid his darkness and poverty.

That same day, after leaving the doctor, I proceeded first to Mrs.
Blake's to tell her the news. She threw a shawl over her head and
accompanied me directly to Mrs. Larkum's. We found her sitting in a
comfortable, though rather ancient easy-chair, which I had exhumed, along
with a good many other useful articles, from the garret at Oaklands. The
two older ch