It does not need Marie to confirm
it, though she, too, will come sometime to tell me who I am, but
when she comes, I shan't be Edith Hastings, shall I. The initials
won't be changed, though. They will be 'E.H.' still--Edith
Harrington. It has not a bad sound, has it?"
"Don't, darling, please don't," and Richard's voice had in it a
tone much like that which first rang through the room, when Edith
said,
"It cannot be."
"Richard," and Edith took his cold face between her soft, warm
hands, "Richard, won't you let the singing bird call you husband?
If you don't, she will fly away and sing to some one else, who
will prize her songs. I thought you loved me, Richard."
"Oh, Edith, my precious Edith! If I knew I could make the love
grow where it is not growing--the right kind of love, I mean--I
would not hesitate; but, darling, Richard Harrington would die a
thousand deaths rather than take you to his bosom an unloving
wife. Remember that, and do NOT mock me; do not deceive me. You
think now in the first flush of your gratitude to me for having
saved your life and in your pity for my blindness that you can do
anything; but wait awhile--consider well--think how I shall be old
while you still are young,--a tottering, gray-haired man, while
your blood still retains the heat of youth.
Pages:
354
355
356
357
358
359
360
361
362
363
364
365
366
367
368
369
370
371
372
373
374
375
376
377
378