There were garlands of rosebuds swung
from the top of the white satin-papered walls.
There were dainty toilet things, a little dressing-
table decked with ivory, a case of books, chairs
cushioned with rosebud chintz, windows curtained
with the same.
In the little white bed, with a rose-sprinkled cover-
lid over her, lay Content. She was not asleep.
Directly, when the light flashed out, she looked at
the rector and his wife with her clear blue eyes. Her
fair hair, braided neatly and tied with pink ribbons,
lay in two tails on either side of her small, certainly
very good face. Her forehead was beautiful, very
white and full, giving her an expression of candor
which was even noble. Content, little lonely girl
among strangers in a strange place, mutely beseech-
ing love and pity, from her whole attitude toward
life and the world, looked up at Edward Patterson
and Sally, and the rector realized that his determina-
tion was giving way. He began to believe in imagi-
nation, even to the extent of a sister Solly. He had
never had a daughter, and sometimes the thought
of one had made his heart tender. His voice was
very kind when he spoke.
"Well, little girl," he said, "what is this I hear?"
Sally stared at her husband and stifled a chuckle.
As for Content, she looked at the rector and said
nothing.
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