He motioned to the others to leave them alone, and,
kneeling down by her, took her hand in his.
"Guy, dear," she said, "I know I have been so very wicked and ungrateful
to you; but you must not be angry. I have no one left to take care of me
but you, now. I will try to be patient; indeed, indeed I will." Her
voice was faint and exhausted, but as gentle as ever.
He held her hand faster, and bent his forehead down upon it.
"You are not wicked--only too weak to bear your sorrow. If I only knew
what to do to comfort you! But I am so rough and harsh, even when I mean
to be kind. I can say nothing, either. I suppose you ought to submit,
but I can not tell you how; it is a lesson I have never been able to
learn."
"You can do this," she said. "Let me go to him. Ah! don't refuse. I will
be calm and good. Indeed I will. But I must go"--she sank her voice into
a lower whisper yet--"I have not kissed him to-night."
There was something so unspeakably piteous in her tone and in her
imploring eyes, that had grown quite soft again, though no tears had
moistened them, that Guy could hardly answer her.
"I did not mean to refuse you, dear," he said, at last. "I won't even
ask you to wait.
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