Poor child! Pure as she was in principle and firm in truth, she would
have made but a weak controversial theologian; but her simple words went
straight to her hearer's heart, with a stronger power of conversion than
could have been found in the discourses of all the surpliced Chrysostoms
that ever anathematized a sinner or anatomized a creed.
Yet Guy did not answer so soon this time. When he did, he spoke firmly
and resolutely: "Indeed, indeed, I will try."
Constance nestled down on his broad chest, wearily, but with a
long-drawn breath of intense relief.
"I have said all my say," she whispered; "I have not tired you? Now I
will rest, and you shall pet me and talk to me as you used to do."
What broken sentences--what pauses of silence yet more eloquent--what
lavish, tender caresses passed between those two, over whom the shadow
of desolation was closing fast, I have never guessed, nor, if I could,
would I write them in these pages. I hold that there are partings
bitterer to bear than a father's from his child, and sorrows worthier of
the veil than those of Agamemnon.
Though Guy repressed now all outward signs of painful emotion, he
suffered, I believe, far the most of the two.
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