"Do stop crying, and look at me. I want to see you," said the
latter.
"I am not crying."
"Then what are you hiding your face for?"
"Because it is so ugly," answered the orphan sadly.
Pauline stooped down, took the head in her hands, and turned the
features to view. She gave them a searching examination, and then,
looking up at her uncle, said bluntly: "She is not pretty, that is a fact; but, somehow, I rather like her.
If she did not look so doleful, and had some blood in her lips, she
would pass well enough; don't you think so?"
Dr. Hartwell did not reply; but, raising Beulah from the floor,
placed her in the chair she had vacated some time before. She did,
indeed, look "doleful," as Pauline expressed it, and the beaming,
lovely face of the latter rendered her wan aspect more apparent.
"What have you been doing all day?" said the doctor kindly.
She pointed to the asylum, and answered in a low, subdued tone: "Thinking about my past life--all my misfortunes."
"You promised you would do so no more."
"Ah, sir! how can I help it?"
"Why, think of something pleasant, of course," interrupted Pauline.
"You never had any sorrows; you know nothing of suffering," replied
Beulah, allowing her eyes to dwell on the fine, open countenance
before her--a mirthful, sunny face, where waves of grief had never
rippled.
"How came you so wise? I have troubles sometimes, just like everbody
else."
Beulah shook her head dubiously.
"Pauline, will you try to cheer this sad little stranger? will you
be always kind in your manner, and remember that her life has not
been as happy as yours? Can't you love her?"
She shrugged her shoulders, and answered evasively: "I dare say we will get on well enough, if she will only quit
looking so dismal and graveyardish. I don't know about loving her;
we shall see."
"You can go down to your mother now," said he gravely.
"That means you are tired of me, Uncle Guy!" cried she, saucily
shaking her curls over her face.
"Yes, heartily tired of you; take yourself off."
"Good-by, shadow; I shall come to see you again to-morrow." She
reached the door, but looked back.
"Uncle, have you seen Charon since you came home?"
"No."
"Well, he will die if you don't do something for him. It is a shame
to forget him as you do!" said she indignantly.