And Bessie
noticed the change in him, and her lip quivered in a grieved kind of
way, as she said:
"You thought me dead, and you were sorry just a little?"
"Oh, Bessie," and with a mighty effort Grey managed to control himself,
"you will never know how sorry, or how glad I am to find you still
alive; but you must not talk to me now. You must rest, so as to go on
deck and get some strength and some color back to your cheeks. I
promised auntie not to stay long. I will come again by and by."
Drawing the covering around her as deftly as a woman could have done,
he went out and left her alone to wonder at his manner. Bessie had never
forgotten the words spoken to her in Rome, and which she had said he
must never repeat.
Over and over again, at intervals, had sounded in her ears, "I love you
with my whole heart and soul, and whether you live or die you will be
the sweetest memory of my life." She had not died--she had lived; she
had seen him again and found him changed. Perhaps it was better so, she
reasoned, and yet she was conscious of a feeling of disappointment or
loss, though it was such joy to know he was near her, and that, by and
by he would come to her again.
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