"Where is my cane, Margret?
The Doctor and I will go and walk on the porch before it grows dark." The sun had gone down long before, and the stars were out; but no one spoke of this.

Knowles lighted the school-master's pipe and his own cigar, and then moved the chairs out of their way, stepping softly that the old man might not hear him.

Margret, in the room, watched them as they went, seeing how gentle the rough, burly man was with her father, and how, every time they passed the sweet-brier, he bent the branches aside, that they might not touch his face.

Slow, childish tears came into her eyes as she saw it; for the school-master was blind.

This had been their regular walk every evening, since it grew too cold for them to go down under the lindens.