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 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