XV. AN ANGEL IN DISGUISE.
XVI. WHICH WAS MOST THE LADY?
XVII. OTHER PEOPLE'S EYES.
AFTER A SHADOW,
AND OTHER STORIES.
I.
AFTER A SHADOW.
"ARTY! Arty!" called Mrs. Mayflower, from the window, one bright
June morning. "Arty, darling! What is the child after? Just look at
him, Mr. Mayflower!"
I leaned from the window, in pleasant excitement, to see what new
and wonderful performance had been attempted by my little prodigy--my
first born--my year old bud of beauty, the folded leaves in whose
bosom were just beginning to loosen themselves, and send out upon
the air sweet intimations of an abounding fragrance. He had escaped
from his nurse, and was running off in the clear sunshine, the slant
rays of which threw a long shadow before him.
"Arty, darling!" His mother's voice flew along and past his ear,
kissing it in gentle remonstrance as it went by. But baby was in
eager pursuit of something, and the call, if heard, was unheeded.
His eyes were opening world-ward, and every new
phenomenon--commonplace and unheeded by us--that addressed itself to
his senses, became a wonder and a delight. Some new object was
drawing him away from the loving heart and protecting arm.
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