“Dearest, we have news for you—joyful news. Can you bear it?”
He started, his heavy eyes flashed with sudden hope.
“Speak!” he cried, hoarsely; and she answered:
“Florence Fane did indeed fall from the window—the paragraph told the truth—but Mr. Maury was mistaken about her death. She—she—lives!”
“Lives?” he cried.
And they never forgot the joy that transfigured his face. It was like sunshine suddenly breaking through a dark cloud.
But in a moment he added, sadly:
“She lives? How can that be? Perhaps you are going to tell me that she is a wretched cripple for life?” and the anguish of his voice was heart-rending.
She studied his face gravely, then asked:
“Would that make any change in your love for her, my brother?”