"Years flew by, and what at first had been a tiny fledgling,
became a very queen of birds, and the blind man's heart throbbed
with pride when he heard people say of his darling that she was
marvellously fair. He knew it was not for him to look upon her
dark, rich, glowing beauty, but he stamped her features upon his
mind in characters which could not be effaced, and always in his
dreams her face sat on his pillow, watching while be slept, and
when he woke bent over him, whispering, 'Poor blind man,' just as
the young bird had whispered ere it's home was in his bosom.
"Edith, that face is always with me, and should it precede me to
the better land, I shall surely know it from all the shining
throng. I shall know my singing bird, which brought to our
darkened household the glorious daylight, just as Arthur St.
Claire said she would when he asked me to take her."
From the ottoman where Edith sat there came a low, choking sound,
but it died away in her throat, and with her hands locked so
firmly together that the taper nails made indentation in the
tender flesh, she listened, while Richard continued:
"It is strange no one has robbed me of my gem.
Pages:
338
339
340
341
342
343
344
345
346
347
348
349
350
351
352
353
354
355
356
357
358
359
360
361
362