"Oh, I don't know—oh, I can't bear it!" I said.
My voice was choked, there came a lump in my throat. After a moment I said, in a totally different sort of voice:
"We'll walk slowly, darling. Darling, I understand."
"Bless the child! of course she understands," he replied, and he squeezed my arm in his old, affectionate manner.
Thank God! we were on the top at last. The beautiful fresh air came towards us, laden with salt from the sea, laden with freshness, and purity, and beauty. My father's tired eyes brightened; he stretched himself and looked about him. There was a lot of sunshine flooding the place, and there was no sort of shade, but neither he nor I minded that.
"Come where the heather is most purple," I said. "Now, here—here's a bed for you and another for me. Stretch yourself; I'll lie close to you. Isn't it just lovely?"
"Upon my word, it is, Heather; it's heavenly."
"Daddy, I wonder sometimes why you called me Heather?"
"It was your mother's wish—your first mother, I mean."
"Oh, father, I could not have two mothers; you know that it would be impossible!"