Where is she? And
Marie, too, for there was a Marie. Let's forget all that's been
said within the last half hour. Let's begin anew, making believe
it's yesterday instead of now, and, when the story is ended, ask
me again if the singing bird can mate with the eagle. The grand,
royal eagle, Richard, is the best similitude for you," and forcing
herself to sit upon his knee, she put her arms around his neck
bidding him again tell her of her mother.
With the elastic buoyancy of youth Edith could easily shake off
the gloom which for a few brief moments had shrouded her like a
pall, but not so with Richard. "The singing-bird must not mate
with the owl," rang continually in his ears. It was her real
sentiment he knew, and his heart ached so hard as he thought how
he had staked his all on her and lost it.
"Begin," she said, "Tell me where you first met my mother."
Richard heaved a sigh which smote heavily on Edith's ear, for she
guessed of what he was thinking, and she longed to reassure him of
her intention to be his sight hereafter, but he was about to speak
and she remained silent.
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