"And my mother. Is it not something to have made her happy?"
"For that I must thank her own sweet disposition. My reproach is that I might have made her happier. I have wronged her by brooding over an old sorrow."
"She has not been jealous of the love that came before you belonged to her. She loves and honours you."
"Far beyond my merits. Providence has been very good to me, Allan."
There was a silence. More books were asked for and brought, languidly opened, languidly closed, and laid aside. Yes, the zest had gone out of them. The languor of excessive weakness can find no beauty even in things most beautiful.
CHAPTER V.
"CHANCE CANNOT CHANGE MY LOVE, NOR TIME IMPAIR."
Suzette endured her lover's absence with a philosophical cheerfulness which somewhat surprised her aunt.
"Upon my word, Suzie, I am half inclined to think that you don't care a straw for Allan," Mrs. Mornington exclaimed one day, when her niece came singing across the wintry lawn, crisp under her footsteps after the morning frost.
Suzette looked angrier than her aunt had ever seen her look till this moment.