But the
look of welcome, the smile of reward that he had been looking forward
to?
Well, Mr. Lind was in America; and during his absence his daughter saw
but few visitors. There was no particular reason why, supposing that
George Brand met Natalie in the street, he should not go up and shake
hands with her; and many a time, in these mental pictures of his of her
morning walk with the rosy-cheeked Anneli, he imagined himself
confronting her under the shadow of the trees, and perhaps walking some
way with her, to listen once more to the clear, low vibrations of her
musical voice. But no sooner had he seen her come into Park Lane--the
vision became real--than he felt he could not go up and speak to her. If
he had met her by accident, perhaps he might; but to watch her, to
entrap her, to break in on her wished-for isolation under false
pretences--all that he suddenly felt to be impossible. He could follow
her with his heart; but the sound of her voice, the touch of her hand,
the smile of her calm, beautiful, dark eyes, were as remote for him as
if she, too, were beyond the broad Atlantic.
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