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Allen, James Lane, 1849-1925

"The Choir Invisible"


"I am going to him at once."
Amy looked up in amazement.
"But, Aunt Jessica," she observed reproachfully; "who will get uncle's
dinner? You know I can't."
"Tell your uncle what has happened as soon as he comes."
She had risen and was making some rapid preparations.
"I want my dinner," said Amy ruefully, seating herself on the edge of the
bed and watching her aunt with disapproval.
"You can't go now!" she exclaimed. "Uncle has the horses in the field."
Mrs. Falconer turned to her with simple earnestness.
"I hoped you would lend me your horse?"
"But he is tired; and beside I want to use him this afternoon: Kitty and I
are going visiting."
"Tell your uncle when he comes in," said Mrs. Falconer, turning in the
doorway a minute later, and speaking rapidly to her niece, but without the
least reproach, "tell your uncle that his friend is badly hurt. Tell him
that we do not know how badly. Tell him that I have gone to find out and to
do anything for him that I can. Tell him to follow me at once. He will
find me at his bedside. I am sorry about the dinner."

XII
SEVERAL days had slipped by.
At John's request they had moved his bed across the doorway of his cabin;
and stretched there, he could see the sun spring every morning out the
dimpled emerald ocean of the wilderness; and the moon follow at night,
silvering the soft ripples of the multitudinous leaves lapping the shores of
silence: days when the inner noises of life sounded like storms; nights when
everything within him lay as still as memory.


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