Jim was relieved, but not satisfied.
"I cannot doubt the truth of all you say, dear Will," he replied, "but I wish it had a different sound to it, somehow."
Ah, the "sound to it!" How many a heart like my faithful Jim's, has half broken for the lack of a certain "sound" to words which were spoken in all loyalty and affection, and really meant all which the aching, listening heart craved, but could not learn to understand in any other language than its own!
This letter was just before Jim's graduation. I had promised to be present at the Commencement. The Dominie and Mrs. Allen and Ally were all to be there, and perhaps Jim's dearly beloved old guardian. Jim's heart was over-full with delight and anticipation. His letters made even me, prosaic, calm-blooded man that I was, feel like laughing and crying together.
"Oh, you dear old Will!" he wrote; "will you just think of what currents are coming together next week? Guardy hasn't seen Mrs. Allen for thirty or forty years, and I know he used to love her—I know it by lots of things; and you have n't seen Ally for almost four years. I shan't tell you a word about her, only just you be prepared to lose your breath, that 's all. I will tell you one thing, though. She 's almost as tall as I am, Will! What do you think of that for a girl of fourteen? Oh, I 'm proud of her! And you, old fellow, have you got such a beard I shan't know you? Oh, but I 'm
