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had been busy with her divine work of compensation。
The one sense stricken with death； she poured floods of new life and
vigor into the others。 Touch became something more than the stupid；
empty grasp of things we seeing mortals know； and in place of the two
eyes he had lost he now had ten in every finger…tip。 As for odors；
let other folks be proud of smelling musk and lavender； but let him
tell you by a quiver of the nostrils the various kinds of so…called
scentless flowers； and let him bend his ear and interpret secrets
that the universe is ever whispering to us who are pent in partial
deafness because； forsooth； we see。
He often paused to hear Lydia's low； soothing tones and the boy's
weak treble。 Anthony had said to him once； 〃Miss Butterfield is very
beautiful； isn't she； Davy？ You haven't painted me a picture of her yet。
How does she look ？〃
Davy was stricken at first with silent embarrassment。
He was a truthful child； but in this he could no more have
told the whole truth than he could have cut off his hand。
He was knit to Lyddy by every tie of gratitude and affection。
He would sit for hours with his expectant face pressed against
the window…pane； and when he saw her coming down the shady
road he was filled with a sense of impending comfort and joy。
〃NO；〃 he said hesitatingly； 〃she isn't pretty； nunky； but she's sweet
and nice and dear； Everything on her shines； it's so clean； and when she
comes through the trees； with her white apron and her purple calico dress；
your heart jumps； because you know she's going to make everything pleasant。
Her hair has a pretty wave in it； and her hand is soft on your forehead；
and it's most worth while being sick just to have her in the house。〃
Meanwhile； so truly is 〃praise our fructifying sun；〃 Lydia bloomed
into a hundred hitherto unsuspected graces of mind and heart and speech。
A sly sense of humor woke into life； and a positive talent for conversation；
latent hitherto because she had never known any one who cared
to drop a plummet into the crystal springs of her consciousness。
When the violin was laid away； she would sit in the twilight； by Davy's sofa；
his thin hand in hers； and talk with Anthony about books and flowers
and music； and about the meaning of life； too；its burdens and mistakes；
and joys and sorrows； groping with him in the darkness to find
a clue to God's purposes。
Davy had long afternoons at Lyddy's house as the autumn
grew into winter。 He read to her while she sewed rags
for a new sitting…room carpet； and they played dominoes
and checkers together in the twilight before supper time；
suppers that were a feast to the boy； after Mrs。 Buck's cookery。
Anthony brought his violin sometimes of an evening；
and Almira Berry； the next neighbor on the road to the Mills；
would drop in and join the little party。 Almira used to sing
Auld Robin Gray； What Will You Do； Love； and Robin Adair；
to the great enjoyment of everybody； and she persuaded Lyddy
to buy the old church melodeon； and learn to sing alto in Oh；
Wert Thou in the Cauld Blast； Gently； Gently Sighs the Breeze；
and I know a Bank。 Nobody sighed for the gayeties and advantages
of a great city when； these concerts being over； Lyddy would
pass crisp seedcakes and raspberry shrub； doughnuts and cider；
or hot popped corn and molasses candy。
〃But there； she can afford to；〃 said aunt Hitty Tarbox；
〃she's pretty middlin' wealthy for Edgewood。 And it's lucky she
is； for she 'bout feeds that boy o' Croft's。 No wonder
he wants her to fill him up； after six years of the Widder
Buck's victuals。 Aurelia Buck can take good flour and sugar；
sweet butter and fresh eggs； and in ten strokes of her hand she
can make 'em into something the very hogs 'll turn away from。
I declare； it brings the tears to my eyes sometimes
when I see her coming out of Croft's Saturday afternoons；
and think of the stone crocks full of nasty messes she's
left behind her for that innocent man and boy to eat up。。。。
Anthony goes to see Miss Butterfield consid'able often。
Of course it's awstensibly to walk home with Davy；
or do an errand or something； but everybody knows better。
She went down to Croft's pretty nearly every day when his cousin
from Bridgton come to house…clean。 She suspicioned something；
I guess。 Anyhow； she asked me if Miss Butterfield's two hundred
a year was in gov'ment bonds。 Anthony's eyesight ain't good；
but I guess he could make out to cut cowpons off。。。。 It
would be strange if them two left…overs should take an'
marry each other； though； come to think of it； I don't
know's 't would neither。 He's blind； to be sure； and can't
see her scarred face。 It's a pity she ain't deef；
so't she can't hear his everlastin' fiddle。 She's lucky
to get any kind of a husband； she's too humbly to choose。
I declare； she reminds me of a Jack…o'…lantern； though
if you look at the back of her； or see her in meetin'
with a thick veil on； she's about the best appearin' woman in
Edgewood。。。。 I never see anybody stiffen up as Anthony has。
He had me make him three white shirts and three gingham ones；
with collars and cuffs on all of 'em。 It seems as if six
shirts at one time must mean something out o' the common！〃
Aunt Hitty was right； it did mean something out of the common。
It meant the growth of an all…engrossing； grateful；
divinely tender passion between two love…starved souls。
On the one hand； Lyddy； who though she had scarcely known
the meaning of love in all her dreary life； yet was as full
to the brim of all sweet； womanly possibilities of loving
and giving as any pretty woman； on the other； the blind
violin…maker； who had never loved any woman but his mother；
and who was in the direst need of womanly sympathy and affection。
Anthony Croft； being ministered unto by Lyddy's kind hands；
hearing her sweet voice and her soft footstep； saw her as God sees；
knowing the best； forgiving the worst； like God； and forgetting it；
still more like God； I think。
And Lyddy？ There is no pen worthy to write of Lyddy。
Her joy lay deep in her heart like a jewel at the bottom of a clear pool；
so deep that no ripple or ruffle on the surface could disturb
the hidden treasure。 If God had smitten these two with one hand；
he had held out the other in tender benediction。
There had been a pitiful scene of unspeakable solemnity
when Anthony first told Lyddy that he loved her； and asked her
to be his wife。 He had heard all her sad history by this time；
though not from her own lips； and his heart went out to her
all the more for the heavy cross that had been laid upon her。
He had the wit and wisdom to put her affliction quite out
of the question； and allude only to her sacrifice in marrying
a blind man； hopelessly and helplessly dependent on her sweet
offices for the rest of his life； if she； in her womanly mercy；
would love him and help him bear his burdens。
When his tender words fell upon Lyddy's dazed brain
she sank beside his chair； and； clasping his knees； sobbed：
〃I love you； I cannot help loving you； I cannot help
telling you I love you！ But you must hear the truth；
you have heard it from others； but perhaps they softened it。
If I marry you； people will always blame me and pity you。
You would never ask me to be your wife if you could see my face；
you could not love me an instant if you were not blind。〃
〃Then I thank God unceasingly for my infirmity；〃 said Anthony Croft；
as he raised her to her feet。
。 。 。 。 。 。
Anthony and Lyddy Croft sat in the apple orchard；
one warm day in late spring。
Anthony's work would have puzzled a casual on…looker。 Ten stout
wires were stretched between two trees； fifteen or twenty feet apart；
and each group of five represented the lines of the musical staff。
Wooden bars crossed the wires at regular intervals； dividing the staff
into measures。 A box with many compartments sat on a stool beside him；
and this held bits of wood that looked like pegs； but were in reality whole；
half； quarter； and eighth notes； rests； flats； sharps； and the like。
These were cleft in such a way that he could fit them on the wires
almost as rapidly as his musical theme came to him； and Lyddy had learned
to transcribe with pen and ink the music she found in wood and wire；
He could write only simple airs in this way； but when he played
them on the violin they were transported into a loftier region；
such genius lay in the harmony； the arabesque； the delicate lacework
of embroidery with which the tune was inwrought； now high； now low；
now major； now minor； now sad； now gay； with the one thrilling；
haunting cadence recurring again and again； to be watched for； longed for；
and greeted with a throb of delight。
Davy was reading at the window； his curly head buried
in a well…worn Shakespeare opened at Midsummer Night's Dream。
Lyddy was sitting under her favorite pink apple…tree；