Dead in Rome, and he not there with her to take a last look at the
fair face which, as he walked rapidly on through street after street,
seemed close beside him, sometimes touching his own and making him
shiver, it was so cold and dead.
"Dead and gone! Dead and gone!" he kept repeating to himself, as he
tried to fancy what was passing in the room where he had spent so many
hours and where he had kissed the girl now dead and gone forever.
"If I were only there," he thought. "If I could but kiss her again and
hold her hand in mine," and for a moment he felt that he must go back
and take the matter away from Neil, who could swear at the expense,
however great it was.
He must go back and himself carry Bessie to the old home in Wales and
bury her in the nook between the father and the wall--the spot which,
when he saw it last, he little dreamed would be her grave, and she so
young and fair. But to go back would necessitate his telling his Aunt
Lucy of the fever, and to excite in her alarm and anxiety for his
safety.
Pages:
574
575
576
577
578
579
580
581
582
583
584
585
586
587
588
589
590
591
592
593
594
595
596
597
598