‘And of such a tailor, too,’ said Caleb. ‘Quite a fashionable tailor. It’s too good for me.’

The Blind Girl rested from her work, and laughed with delight. ‘Too good, father! What can be too good for you?’

‘I’m half ashamed to wear it though,’ said Caleb, watching the effect of what he said, upon her bright- ening face; ‘upon my word! When I hear the boys and people say behind me, “Halloa! Here’s a swell!” I don’t know which way to look. And when the beggar wouldn’t go away last night; and when I said I was a very common man, said “No, your Honour! Bless your Honour, don’t say that!” I was quite ashamed. I really felt as if I hadn’t a right to wear it.’

Happy Blind Girl! How merry she was, in her exultation!

‘I see you, father,’ she said, clasping her hands, ‘as plainly, as if I had the eyes I never want when you are with me. A blue coat —’

‘Bright blue,’ said Caleb.

‘Yes, yes! Bright blue!’ exclaimed the girl, turn- ing up her radiant face; ‘the colour I can just-remem- ber in the blessed sky! You told me it was blue be- fore! A bright blue coat —’

‘Made loose to the figure,’ suggested Caleb.

‘Made loose to the figure!’ cried the Blind Girl, laughing heartily; ‘and in it, you, dear father, with your merry eye, your smiling face, your free step, and your dark hair —looking so young and hand- some!’