“Good night, Harry dear,” she said rising, and, putting her arms around his neck, she laid her cheek to his. “Good night, dear. Harry darling, don’t worry about the work. Do it like a brave, true man; it will make father so happy.”
There was a sudden catching sob in Harry Vine’s throat, as like a flash, the memory of old happy boy and girl days came back. He caught his sister to his breast, and held her tightly there as he kissed her passionately again and again.
“My darling brother!” cried Louise as she tightened her grasp about his neck. “And you will try for all our sakes.”
“Yes, yes,” he said in a hoarse whisper.
“Never mind what poor aunt says. Be a man—a frank, honourable man, Harry. It is the order of the true haute noblesse after all. You will try?”
“Please God, yes, Lou—so hard—ah, so hard.”
“That’s like my dear brother once again,” she cried, fondling him. “There, darling, I’m speaking to you like our mother would. Let me be your mother to you as well as sister. You will begin again?”
“Yes, yes, yes,” he whispered hoarsely; “from this moment, Lou, I will.”
“May I say more?” she said gently, as her hand played about his brow.
“Yes, anything, Lou; anything. I’ve been a fool, but that’s all over now.”