Page:Anna Chapin--Half a dozen boys.djvu/107

Rh The service went on much like all services. Fred mechanically rose and sat down with the rest, but Bess could see that the familiar words  were making no impression on his mind. She had been glad that he could not see the expressive nudges and glances exchanged as, drawing  his hand through her arm, she led him up the  aisle to her usual seat. Once there, he shrank into a corner, just as some too audible words  met his ear:—

“What’s the matter with that boy in front?”

“Blind, and always will be. A peculiar case, started from St. Vitus's Dance. Isn’t it too bad? One of our best families.”

“Who’s the girl? His sister?”

“No, only a friend. She's perfectly devoted to him, they say.”

Bess looked anxiously down at him, to see how he bore these comments. He pressed his lips tightly together, and the hot blood rushed  to his face and then back, leaving it white and  still. She put her hand on his reassuringly, and felt the answering pressure. That was all; but for the first time Fred had heard himself  talked over by strangers as a case likely to