"May I be spared to make some atonement."
"And for what?"
"We will not touch on it now, Cary; unmanned as I am, I have not the power to cope with such a topic. Was Mrs. Pryor with you during your illness?"
"Yes"—Caroline smiled brightly—"you know she is mamma?"
"I have heard—Hortense told me; but that tale too I will receive from yourself. Does she add to your happiness?"
"What! mamma? She is dear to me; how dear I cannot say. I was altogether weary, and she held me up."
"I deserve to hear that in a moment when I can scarce lift my hand to my head. I deserve it."
"It is no reproach against you."
"It is a coal of fire heaped on my head; and so is every word you address to me, and every look that lights your sweet face. Come still nearer, Lina; and give me your hand—if my thin fingers do not scare you."