“I have never kept anything from you, Oliver,” she said; “and, if you are willing to be troubled, I want to tell you all about it. Shall I?”
“Yes, tell me,” he replied; and, nestling so close to him that she might have heard the beating of his heart, Mildred told him of her love, which was so hopeless because of Lilian Veille.
“I shall never be married,” she said; “and when we are old we will live together, you and I, and I shall forget that I ever loved anybody better than you; for I do,—forgive me, Oliver,” and her little, soft, warm hand crept after the cold, clammy one, which moved farther away as hers approached, and at last hid itself behind the chair, while Mildred continued: “I do love him the best, though he has never been to me what you have. But I can’t help it. You are my brother, you know, and it’s all so different. I don’t suppose you can understand it, but try to imagine that you are not lame, nor small, but tall and straight, and manly as Lawrence Thornton, and that you loved somebody,—me, perhaps.”
“Yes, you—say you, Milly,” and the poor, deformed Oliver felt a thrill of joy as he thought of himself “tall, and straight, and handsome, and loving Mildred Howell.”
“And suppose I did not love you in return,” said Mildred, “wouldn’t your heart ache as it never has ached yet?”
Oliver could have told her of a heartache such as she had never known, but he dared not, and he was about framing some word of comfort, when Judge Howell’s voice was heard below, asking if his runaway were there.
“Oh, it’s too bad!” said Mildred. “I wanted to have such a nice long talk, and have not said a word I came to say; but it can’t be helped.”
And kissing the lips which inwardly kissed her back a thousand times, though outwardly they did not move, she hurried down the stairs, where the Judge was waiting for her.
“I thought I should find you here,” he said, adding that it was not polite in her to flare up at nothing, and run off from her guests.
Mildred made no reply, and knowing from past experience that it was not always safe to reprove her, the Judge walked on in silence until they reached the house, where Lilian greeted Mildred as if nothing had occurred, while Lawrence made himself so agreeable, that when at last they separated for the night the shadow was entirely gone from Mildred’s face, and nearly so from her heart.