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Brame, Charlotte M. (Charlotte Monica), 1836-1884

"Dora Thorne"

I can not imagine my
eyes dim or my hair gray. I can not imagine my heart beating
slowly. I can not realize a day when the warmth and beauty of
life will have changed into cold and dullness."
Even as she spoke a gentle arm stole round her, a fair,
spirituelle face, eyes full of clear, saintly light looked into
hers, and a soft voice whispered to her of something not earthly,
not of flowers and music, not of life and gayety, something far
beyond these, and the proud eyes for a moment grew dim with
tears.
"Lily," she said, "I am not so good as you, but I will endeavor
to be. Let me enjoy myself first, just for a short time; I will
be good, dear."
Her mood changed then, and Lord Airlie thought her more
entrancing than ever.
"That is the kind of wife I want," thought Lionel Dacre to
himself, looking at Lillian--"some one to guide me, to teach me.
Ah, if women only understood their mission! That girl looked as
I can imagine only guardian angels look--I wish she would be
mine."
Lord Airlie left the conservatory, with its thousand flowers,
more in love than ever.
He would wait, he said to himself, until the ball was over; then
he would ask Beatrice Earle to be his wife.


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