The pardon he had refused was wrung
from him now; and, looking at his child, he felt that she was
sacrificed to his blind, willful pride.
"You will forgive me, Ronald," pleaded the gentle voice, "for the
love of my dead child? Do not send me from you again. I have
been very unhappy all these long years; let me stay with you now.
Dear, I was beside myself with jealousy when I acted as I did."
"I forgive you," he said, gently, "can you pardon me as easily,
Dora? I have spoiled your life--I have done you cruel wrong;
can you forget all, and love me as you did years ago?"
All pride, restraint, and anger were dead. He whispered loving
words to his weeping wife, such as she had not heard for years;
and he could have fancied, as he did so, that a happy smile
lingered on the fair face of the dead.
No, it was but the light of a wax taper flickering over it; the
strange, solemn beauty of that serene brow and those quiet lips
were unstirred.
Half an hour afterward Lady Helena, trembling from the result of
her experiment, entered the room. She saw Ronald's arms clasped
round Dora, while they knelt side by side.
Pages:
462
463
464
465
466
467
468
469
470
471
472
473
474
475
476
477
478
479
480
481
482
483
484
485
486