"And I must now thank you, sweet nurse, for your care. Sweet nurse!
Sweet nurse!"
She shook her head in protestation.
"Heaven bless you, 'Tite Poulette!"
Her face sank lower.
"God has made you very beautiful, Tite Poulette!"
She stirred not. He reached, and gently took her little hand, and as he drew her one step nearer, a tear fell from her long lashes. From the next room, Zalli, with a face of agonized suspense, gazed upon the pair, undiscovered. The young man lifted the hand to lay it upon his lips, when, with a mild, firm force, it was drawn away, yet still rested in his own upon the bedside, like some weak thing snared, that could only not get free.
"Thou wilt not have my love, 'Tite Poulette?"
No answer.
"Thou wilt not, beautiful?"
"Cannot!" was all that she could utter, and upon their clasped hands the tears ran down.