"He looks ill, you say, Alice?"
"Never seen him look so rosy in my life, miss, nor in such spirits."
Lucy looked into her face, and for a moment's space one slight and
feeble gleam, which no suffering could prevent, passed over it, at this
intimation of the object which Alley's fancy then dwelt upon.
"He danced a hornpipe, miss, to the tune of the Swaggerin' Jig, upon the
kitchen table," she proceeded; "and, sorra be off me, but it would do
your heart good to see the springs he would give--every one o' them a
yard high--and to hear how he'd crack his fingers as loud as the shot of
a pistol."
A slight gloom overclouded Lucy's face; but, on looking at the artless
transition from the honest sympathy which Alley had just felt for her to
a sense of happiness which it was almost a crime to disturb, it almost
instantly disappeared.
"I must not be angry with her," she said to herself; "this feeling,
after all, is only natural, and such as God. in his goodness bestows
upon every heart as the greatest gift of life, when not abused.
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