So for many weary
days and nights those two young girls hovered like angels of mercy
around the bed where the sick man tossed from side to side, while
the fever burned more and more fiercely in his veins until his
reason was dethroned, and a secret told which otherwise would have
died with him. Gradually the long hidden love for Nina showed
itself, and Edith, who alone could comprehend the meaning of what
he said and did, saw how a strong, determined man can love, even
when there is no hope.
"Little wounded dove," he called the golden-haired maiden, who
bent so constantly over him, caressing his burning face with her
cool, soft hands, passing her snowy fingers through his disordered
hair, and suffering him to kiss her as he often did, but insisting
always that MIGGIE should be kissed also, and Edith, knowing that
what was like healing to the sick man would be withheld unless
she, too, submitted, would sometimes bow her graceful head and
receive upon her brow the token of affection.
"You must hug Miggie, too," Nina said to him one day, when he had
held her slight form for a moment to his bosom.
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