Nothing was kept back; his letter telling of his love, his mother’s anger, her cruel reply, then the brief renunciation of the outraged son.
“Was he not brave?” cried Alva, with kindling eyes. “He threw away everything for Love’s sake. Would that I, his sister, had been so true to self.”
“You! you!” cried Floy, in tears and wonder.
“Hush! hush! I did not mean to refer to myself!” cried Alva; and sure as she was of the girl’s sympathy, she repented of her momentary self-betrayal, and wrapped herself in a mantle of reserve.
“A grief may ease itself with tears to start,
Or vehement outcries in passion’s breath.
But the calm stillness of a broken heart
Is sadder far than death.
“Life may flow patiently in tearless wave,
Its palmless martyrdom concealed, secure;