And, after a time, the shadow cast across her youth would,
I understood, be altogether removed, and leave her free to begin a new
and beautiful life, unalloyed by that hideous, haunting memory of
suicide, which had changed into melancholy the gay cheerfulness of her
lovely girlhood.
Yes; it was the old story of the streamlet and the snow, of the rose and
the wind. To others my love might not have seemed hopeless, but to me it
was dead as the flowers I had seen blooming a year before.
Not for any earthly consideration would I have made a claim upon her
affection.
What I had done had been done freely and loyally. I gave it all to her
as utterly as I had previously given my heart, and now I could make no
bargain with my dear. I never for a moment thought she owed me anything
for my pains and trouble. Her kindly glances, her sweet words, her
little, thoughtful turns of manner, were free gifts of her goodness, but
in no sense payment for my services.
She understood I could not presume upon them, and was, perhaps, better
satisfied it should be so.
But nothing satisfied Miss Blake, and at length between her and Mr.
Craven there ensued a serious disagreement. She insisted he should not
"send that clerk of his" to the house again, and suggested if Mr.
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