Webb, who, as usual, was somewhat apart from the family
group, kept up a poor pretence of reading; and genial Leonard stood with
his back to the fire, his hands clasped behind him, beaming upon all, and
waiting to shine on the new-comer. Only Mr. Clifford seemed uninfluenced by
the warm, bright present. He gazed fixedly into the flickering blaze, and
occasionally took off his spectacles to wipe away the moisture that
gathered in his eyes. His thoughts, evidently, were busy with years long
past, and were following that old, tried friend who had committed to his
hands so sacred a trust.
The door opened, and Mrs. Leonard led Amy forward. The latter hesitated a
moment, bewildered by the number of eyes turned toward her, and the new
relations into which she was entering. She proved that she was not a
child by her quick, blushing consciousness of the presence of two young
men, who were as yet utter strangers; and they, in turn, involuntarily
gave to the lender, brown-haired girl quite a different welcome from the
one they had expected to bestow upon a child. Old Mr. Clifford did not
permit her embarrassment to last a moment, but, stepping hastily forward,
and encircling her with his arm, he led her to his wife, who brought
tears into the eyes of the motherless girl by the gentle warmth of her
greeting. She monopolized her ward so long that impatient Burtis began to
expostulate, and ask when his turn was coming.
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