And brave the struggle she would, though it broke her heart.
At the door she turned. The sight of Stuart’s grief struck her painfully; she held out her hand, urged by an uncontrollable impulse.
“Stuart!” she said, faintly.
He was beside her in an instant.
“If you value what I say,” she whispered, as he clasped her hand, “you will be brave. Do not speak of your life as ended. We both have duties. We have been tried; but Heaven has been very good, for the clouds of doubt and suspicion that hung over our hearts have been dispelled. To know the truth is happiness and comfort—let us be grateful and not murmur. Now, good-by.”
Their eyes met, and he bent his head till his lips touched her small, cold, trembling hand.
“I will remember, cousin,” he responded; “good-by.”
The curtain was moved aside, then fell back again to its place, and Stuart Crosbie was alone.
“Then came the bitter hours, and broke
Thy heart from mine away,