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 “Yes, child, I have grown better while listening to you; read it to the end.”

The child read on, and when she came to the last words:

the grandmother repeated them once or twice to herself, with a look of happy expectation on her face. And Heidi took equal pleasure in them, for the picture of the beautiful sunny day of her return home rose before her eyes, and she exclaimed joyfully, “Grandmother, I know exactly what it is like to go home.” The old woman did not answer, but she had heard Heidi’s words, and the expression that had made the child think she was better remained on her face.

A little later Heidi said, “It is growing dark and I must go home; I am glad to think that you are quite well again.”

The grandmother took the child’s hand in hers and held it closely. “Yes,” she said, “I feel quite happy again; even if I have to go on lying here, I am content. No one knows what it is to lie here alone day after day, in silence and darkness, without hearing a voice or seeing a ray of light. Sad thoughts come over me, and I do not feel sometimes as if I could bear it any longer or as if it could ever be light again. But when you come and read those words to me, then I am comforted and my heart rejoices once more.”

Then she let the child go, and Heidi ran into the next room, and bid Peter come quickly, for it had now grown quite dark. But when they got outside they found the moon shining down