Tears sprang
into Miss Alcott's eyes, and she walked to the other side of the room.
The boy did not know what to say or do, so he sat silent. With a
deliberate movement Emerson resumed his seat, and slowly his eyes roamed
over the boy sitting at the side of the desk. He felt he should say
something.
"I thought, perhaps, Mr. Emerson," he said, "that you might be able to
favor me with a letter from Carlyle."
At the mention of the name Carlyle his eyes lifted, and he asked:
"Carlyle, did you say, sir, Carlyle?"
"Yes," said the boy, "Thomas Carlyle."
"Ye-es," Emerson answered slowly. "To be sure, Carlyle. Yes, he was here
this morning. He will be here again to-morrow morning," he added
gleefully, almost like a child.
Then suddenly: "You were saying--"
Edward repeated his request.
"Oh, I think so, I think so," said Emerson, to the boy's astonishment.
"Let me see. Yes, here in this drawer I have many letters from Carlyle."
At these words Miss Alcott came from the other part of the room, her wet
eyes dancing with pleasure and her face wreathed in smiles.
"I think we can help this young man; do you not think so, Louisa?" said
Emerson, smiling toward Miss Alcott. The whole atmosphere of the room
had changed. How different the expression of his eyes as now Emerson
looked at the boy! "And you have come all the way from New York to ask
me that!" he said smilingly as the boy told him of his trip. "Now, let
us see," he said, as he delved in a drawer full of letters.
Pages:
58
59
60
61
62
63
64
65
66
67
68
69
70
71
72
73
74
75
76
77
78
79
80
81
82