anxious, weary weeks.

With a consciousness of some impending cloud, yet unable to read the dear
pen tracery, I never before so deeply felt the blight of blindness, for
the contents were too sacred for the desecration of stranger's sight.

So all through that weary journey, softened as it was by the unremitting
kindness of all the railroad officials and attendants, I carried a
crushing weight of anxiety and suspense, until I reached Chicago, and dear
Mrs. Dean, who at once revealed to my waiting heart the contents of the
letter.

Mr. Arms was in Indiana, and very ill at the time of writing (three weeks
previous) and earnestly desired my presence. The weary hours of night
dragged their slow lengths away, and the morning found me speeding on as
fast as steam could carry me, toward Indiana, yet all _too slow_ for my
fears and forebodings.

I found him scarcely able to be carried to the post of duty, where, at the
mill being built under his superintendence, he watched the progress of
the work.

'Tis needless to say how joyous was my welcome and how soon the invalid
gave signs of convalescence, under the influence of my long hoped for
presence.




CHAPTER XII.