It was Darry at last who found me one day, and, distressed at
my looks, begged that I would let him bring up my pony. He was
so earnest that I yielded. I got leave, and went to ride.
Darry saddled another horse for himself and went with me. That
first ride did not help me much; but the second time, a little
tide of life began to steal into my veins. Darry encouraged
and instructed me; and when we came, cantering up to the door
of the house, my aunt who was watching there, cried out that I
had a bit of a tinge in my cheeks; and charged Darry to bring
the horses up every day.
With a little bodily vigour a little strength of mind seemed
to come; a little more power of bearing up against evils, or
of quietly standing under them. After the third time I went to
ride, having come home refreshed, I took my Bible and sat down
on the rug before the fire in my room to read. I had not been
able to get comfort in my Bible all those days; often I had
not liked to try. Right and wrong never met me in more
brilliant colours or startling shadows than within the covers
of that book.
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