"Yes," said he, brightened by that buoyant look so remarkable in her

face; "and you will yet do more, Ermine. You have convinced me that we

shall be all the happier together--"

"But that was not what I meant to convince you of--" she said, faintly.

"Not what you meant, perhaps; but what it did convince me was, that

you--as you are, my Ermine--are ten thousand times more to me than even

as the beautiful girl, and that there never can be a happier pair than

we shall be when I am your hands and feet."

Ermine sat up, and rallied all her forces, choked back the swelling

of her throat, and said, "Dear Colin, it cannot be! I trusted you were

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understanding that when I told you how it was with me."

He could not speak from consternation.

"No," she said; "it would be wrong in me to think of it for an instant.

That you should have done so, shows--O Colin, I cannot talk of it; but

it would be as ungenerous in me to consent, as it is noble of you to

propose it."

"It is no such thing," he answered; "it has been the one object and

thought of my life, the only hope I have had all these years."

"Exactly so," she said, struggling again to speak firmly; "and that is

the very thing. You kept your allegiance to the bright, tall, walking,

active girl, and it would be a shame in the scorched cripple to claim

it."

"Don't call yourself names. Have I not told you that you are more than

the same?"

"You do not know. You are pleased because my face is not burnt, nor

grown much older, and because I can talk and laugh in the same voice

still." (Oh, how it quivered!) "But it would be a wicked mockery in me

to pretend to be the wife you want. Yes, I know you think you do, but

that is just because my looks are so deceitful, and you have kept on

thinking about me; but you must make a fresh beginning."

"You can tell me that," he said, indignantly.

"Because it is not new to me," she said; "the quarter of an hour you

stood by me, with that deadly calm in your white face, was the real

farewell to the young hopeful dream of that bright summer. I wish it was

as calm now."

"I believed you dying then," answered he.

"Do not make me think it would have been better for you if I had been,"

she said, imploringly. "It was as much the end, and I knew it from the

time my recovery stopped short. I would have let you know if I could,

and then you would not have been so much shocked."




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