‘You have thrown yourself away,’ said Eugene, shaking his head. ‘But you have followed the treasure of your heart. My justification is, that you had thrown that away first, dear girl!’
‘No. I had given it to you.’
‘The same thing, my poor Lizzie!’
‘Hush! hush! A very different thing.’
There were tears in his eyes, and she besought him to close them. ‘No,’ said Eugene, again shaking his head; ‘let me look at you, Lizzie, while I can. You brave devoted girl! You heroine!’
Her own eyes filled under his praises. And when he mustered strength to move his wounded head a very little way, and lay it on her bosom, the tears of both fell.
‘Lizzie,’ said Eugene, after a silence: ‘when you see me wandering away from this refuge that I have so ill deserved, speak to me by my name, and I think I shall come back.’
‘Yes, dear Eugene.’
‘There!’ he exclaimed, smiling. ‘I should have gone then, but for that!’
A little while afterwards, when he appeared to be sinking into insensibility, she said, in a calm loving voice: ‘Eugene, my dear husband!’ He immediately answered: ‘There again! You see how you can recall me!’ And afterwards, when he could not speak, he still answered by a slight movement of his head upon her bosom.