"You painted her soul," said Nurse Rosemary, "and it illuminated her plain face."
"I SAW her soul," said Garth, almost in a whisper; "and that vision was so radiant that it illumined my dark life. The remembrance lightens my darkness, even now."
A very tender silence fell in the library.
The twilight deepened.
Then Nurse Rosemary spoke, very low. "Mr. Dalmain, I have a request to make of you. I want to beg you not to destroy these pictures."
Garth lifted his head. "I must destroy them, child," he said. "I cannot risk their being seen by people who would recognise my—the—the lady portrayed."
"At all events, there is one person who must see them, before they are destroyed."
"And that is?" queried Garth.
"The lady portrayed," said Nurse Rosemary, bravely.
"How do you know she has not seen them?"