Teddy followed for a while; and then, fearing that he should be lost
in the trackless wood, turned his back upon the rising sun, and
walked, as be supposed, in the direction of the house, his eyes upon
the ground, his mind strangely busy with thoughts and memories of
the life he had left so far behind, that, in the press and hurry of
his present career, it sometimes seemed hardly to belong to him.
"God and my lady have been very good to me," thought the boy; "but I
never'll be as happy again as when the little sister put her arms
about my neck, and called me her dear Teddy, and kissed me with her
own sweet mouth that maybe is dust and ashes now. No: I never'll be
happy that way again."
He raised his eyes as he spoke, and started back, pale and
trembling, fain to lean against the nearest tree for support under
the great shock.
Not fifty feet from him, and bathed in the early sunlight that came
sifting through the trees to greet her, stood a child, dressed in a
white robe, her sunny hair crowned with flowers, her little hand
holding sceptre-wise a long stalk with snow-white bells drooping
from its under edge. Her arms were bare to the shoulder, and her
slender feet gleamed white from the bed of moss that almost buried
them.
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