“Kiss me once, Richard, for the sake of what might have been, then let me die,—here, just as I am, alone with you.”
He kissed her more than once, more than twice, while he said to her:
“You will not die; the crisis is past; my darling will live.”
Neither thought of Squire Russell then, so full, so perfect was that moment of bliss in which each acknowledged the deep love filling their hearts with joy. Dora was the first to remember, and with a moan she turned her face to the wall while the doctor still held and caressed the little wasted hand which did not withdraw itself from his grasp. There was joy in the household that night, for the glad news that Dora was better spread rapidly, while smiles and tears of happiness took the place of sorrow. Squire Russell was gone; business which required attention had taken him away for several hours, and when he returned it was too late to visit the sick-room; but he heard from Johnnie that Dora would live, and from his room there went up a prayer of thanksgiving to Heaven, who had not taken away one so dear as Dora.
CHAPTER XXV.
BREAKING THE ENGAGEMENT.
“Poor Squire Russell,” Jessie kept repeating to herself, as she saw him next morning going up to Dora, who would far rather not have seen him until some one had told him what she knew now must be.
But there was no longer a reason why he should not be admitted to her presence, and so he came, his kind face bathed in tears, and glowing all over with delight as he stooped to kiss “his lily,” as he called her, asking how she felt, and whispering to her of his joy that she was better.
“I knew the doctor would help you,” he said, rubbing his hands complacently. “You would have died but for him. We will always like Dr. West, Dora, for he saved your life.”
“I guess I would not talk any more now,—it tires her,” Jessie said, in a perfect tremor of distress; and taking his arm, she led him away; then, closing the door upon him, she went back to Dora, who was weeping silently.