"Oh, Louis!" I cried, "I cannot, they will see my face, what shall I do? how came you here?" and I still kept crying and sobbing as if my heart would break.
"Why Emily, my royal Emily, come into little mother's room,—she has lain down,—and tell me why you weep."
I yielded gratefully, not gracefully, and we were seated alone, all alone, and he was saying to me:
"Emily, tell me what it is, you have troubled me so long, your eyes have grown so sad. Oh! Emily, my darling, may I not know your secret sorrow? I can wait longer, my year has flown, and three months more, and still my heart is waiting; tell me your sorrow, and then let me say to you what I have waited in patience to repeat."
It was not a dream, my heart beat like a bird, and I could tell him, only too gladly. "Emily will do it."
CHAPTER XV.
EMILY FINDS PEACE.
As soon as I could control my voice I said, "I cannot tell you why I cry so bitterly. I felt so strangely when I read this terrible letter, which Matthias had picked up in the road and given to me. Instead of sorrow covering me, as would seem natural, sorrow for another, not myself, I said, 'thank God,' for it seemed as if I had looked at something that would lead me from darkness to light. I have been so miserable, Louis; Mr. Benton has tormented me so long, that I have been filled with despair, and I begin to believe I shall never be worth anything again; oh! I am grieving so, and yet feel such a strange joy;" and I shook as if with ague.
Louis looked as if wonder-struck, and holding both my hands in one of his, drew my head to his shoulder, and with his arm still round me, put his hand on my forehead.