“Your kind heart foresees for me things that I dare not hope for. Something is glimmering on the horizon of my fortune. Is it the dying glow of my failing fortunes, is it the pale dawn of a coming and more glorious day? Who can tell? I await with patience whatever may be impending—an early day must decide.”
“That will bring certainty, and put an end to this suspense,” murmured Sabina.
“Now rest and try to sleep,” said Verus with a tender fervency, that was peculiar to his tones. “It is past midnight and the physician has often forbidden you to sit up late. Farewell, dream sweetly, and always be the same to me as a man, that you were to me in my childhood and youth.”
Sabina withdrew the hand he had taken, saying:
“But you must not leave me. I want you. I cannot exist without your presence.”
“Till to-morrow—always—forever I will stay with you whenever you need me.”
The Empress gave him her hand again, and sighed softly as he again bowed over it, and pressed it long to his lips.
“You are my friend, Verus, truly my friend; yes, I am sure of it,” she said at last, breaking the silence.
“Oh Sabina, my Mother!” he answered tenderly. “You spoiled me with kindness even when I was a boy, and what can I do to thank you for all this?”
“Be always the same to me that you are to-day. Will you always—for all time be the same, whatever your fortunes may be?”