Her arms have been about my neck in true affection; her whole being
radiated love for me; she had no words to tell it and could tell it only
with her eyes and with the richness and the lavishness of her kisses. She
would have given up the world for me; she inspired me to my best deeds;
she comforted me in my times of discouragement and rejoiced with me in my
hours of cheer. She is not here now, and it is lonely, but she has left
me, in spirit, the warmth of her presence, the consciousness that she
loved me with a love in which there was no selfishness nor faltering, and
the things she has left me I can carry through life and into eternity."
And all of that was Ernestine's could she but see her way to take it!
He knew that it was growing late. "I must go," he said, but still he sat
there, knowing he had not finished what he had come to say. But need he
say it? Would it avail anything? Must not all human souls work their own
way through the darkness? And when the right word came, must it not come
from Karl himself, through some memory, some strange breath of the
spirit? _He_ knew, but she would have to see it for herself.
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