“If Gilbert wishes it and Manuel consents, we will bear and forbear much for your sake, my poor child.”
Pauline's eye said, “Dare you go?” and Gilbert's answered, “Yes,” as the two met with a somber fire in each; but his lips replied, “Anywhere with you, Babie,” and Manuel took Mrs. Redmond's hand with a graceful warmth that touched her deeper than his words.
“Your example teaches me the beauty of compassion, and Pauline's friends are mine.”
“Always so kind to me! Dear Manuel, I never can forget it, though I have nothing to return but this,” and, like a grateful child, she lifted up her innocent face so wistfully he could only bend his tall head to receive the kiss she offered.
Gilbert's black brows lowered ominously at the sight, but he never spoke; and, when her good-nights were over, bowed silently and carried his little wife away, nestling to him as if all griefs and pains were banished by returning love.
“Poor little heart! She should have a smoother path to tread. Heaven grant she may hereafter; and this sudden penitence prove no sham.” Manuel paused suddenly, for as if obeying an unconquerable impulse, Pauline laid a hand on either shoulder and searched his face with an expression which baffled his comprehension, though he bore it steadily till her eyes fell before his own, when he asked smilingly:
“Is the doubt destroyed, cariña?”
“No; it is laid asleep.”
Then as he drew her nearer, as if to make his peace for his unknown offense, she turned her cheek away and left him silently. Did she fear to find Babie's kiss upon his lips?