She had meant to utter something that would show her appreciation of his goodness and the universal esteem in which he was held, but was quite unprepared for the start that he gave and the unmistakable deepening of the shadow on his sombre face. But before she could express her regret at the offence, whatever it was, he had recovered himself, and it was with a fatherly tenderness that he laid his hand upon hers while he said, “Such a soul may yours ever continue, my child,” and then stood watching her as she glided up the stairs, her charming face showing every now and then as she leaned on her winding way to the top, to bestow upon him the tender little smile she had already learned was his solace and delight.
It was the beginning of happier days for him.
BOOK II.
LIFE AND DEATH.
XIV.
MISS BELINDA HAS A QUESTION TO DECIDE.
“I pray you in your letters,
Speak of me as I am; nothing extenuate,
Nor set down aught in malice.”—Othello.