Tilda Jane, an Orphan in Search of a Home by Marshall Saunders

Mr. Dillson had not passed a pleasant night. In the first place he had not been able to move for a long time after 'Tilda Jane's departure. For half an hour he had sat, hoping that she would return, or that some one would call on some errand. Without his crutches he was helpless.

Strange to say, he was not in a rage with her. Indeed, he had never felt more kindly disposed toward her, and he certainly had never so longed for a sight of her little thin, ungraceful figure. Just at the moment of the burning of the crutches he could have felled her to the earth, but after it was an accomplished fact his lack of resentment was a marvel even to himself. Possibly it was because she had saved the gold plate. Possibly -- as minute after minute went by -- it was because a peculiar fear drove all vengeance from his mind.