"The wisdom of Providence is in this, as in all its dispensations;"
whispered Content over the shoulder of his nearly insensible partner.
"Had we received her as she was lost, the favor might have exceeded
our deservings. Our daughter is grieved that thou turnest a cold eye
on her babe."
The appeal was sufficient for one whose affections had been wounded rather
than chilled. It recalled Ruth to recollection, and it served at once to
dissipate the shades of regret that had been unconsciously permitted to
gather around her brow. The displeasure, or it would be more true to term
it sorrow, of the young mother was easily appeased. A smile on her infant
brought the blood back to her heart in a swift and tumultuous current; and
Ruth, herself, soon forgot that she had any reason for regret, in the
innocent delight with which her own daughter now hastened to display the
physical excellence of the boy. From this scene of natural feeling,
Content was too quickly summoned by the intelligence that some one without
awaited his presence, on business of the last importance to the welfare of
the settlement.
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