Her eyes, her cheeks, her tones, and even words,
might prove traitors at any time and betray her. She longed to be
alone, and teh large empty city house seemed the quiet refuge that
she needed. At the same time it would give her deep satisfaction
to be with her father after hs return from business, and make amends
for years of neglect.
He looked at her wistfully, feeling, in a vague way, that he did
not understand her yet. There was a minor chord in her voice,
and there had been a sadness in her eyes at times which began to
suggest to him that he had not learned all the causes that were so
marvellously transforming her form her old self. Her mother would
question and question. He, on the contrary, would wait patiently
till the confidence was given, and so he merely said gently,
"All right, little girl; I'll try to make you happy in your own
way."
Van Berg, going out for a walk after tea, again heard the girlish
voice singing the quaint hymn tune that had awakened the memories
of his childhood the previous day. He instantly concealed himself
by the roadside, and in a moment or two Ida and her father drove
by. He was able in the dusk to note only that her head rested on
her father's shoulder, and her voice was sweet and plaintive as
she sang words that he could not hear distinctly, but which were
as follows, as far as he could catch them:
I know not the way he is leading me
But I know he is leading me home;
Though lonely the path and dark to me,
It is safe and it wends to my home.
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