When she had gone Old Man Shaw , the fire all faded from his eyes , sank back on his bench . His delight was dead ; his heart was full of pain and bitterness . Martha Blewett was a warped and ill-natured woman , but he feared there was altogether too much truth in what she said . Why had he never thought of it before ? Of course White Sands would seem dull and lonely to Blossom ; of course the little gray house where she was born would seem a poor abode after the splendours of her aunt 's home . Old Man Shaw walked through his garden and looked at everything with new eyes . How poor and simple everything was ! How sagging and weather-beaten the old house ! He went in , and up-stairs to Sara 's room . It was neat and clean , just as she had left it three years ago . But it was small and dark ; the ceiling was discoloured , the furniture old-fashioned and shabby ; she would think it a poor , mean place . Even the orchard over the hill brought him no comfort now . Blossom would not care for orchards . She would be ashamed of her stupid old father and the barren farm . She would hate White Sands , and chafe at the dull existence , and look down on everything that went to make up his uneventful life . Old Man Shaw was unhappy enough that night to have satisfied even Mrs. Blewett had she known . He saw himself as he thought White Sands folk must see him -- a poor , shiftless , foolish old man , who had only one thing in the world worthwhile , his little girl , and had not been of enough account to keep her . `` Oh , Blossom , Blossom ! '' he said , and when he spoke her name it sounded as if he spoke the name of one dead . After a little the worst sting passed away .
He refused to believe long that Blossom would be ashamed XXXXX him ; he knew she would not .
after at before for from in of on over through