Her queenly daughter read it, and smiled her light, cynical smile.
“How brave he is, how loyal to his love! I see now that he was in earnest, and I admire him more than ever!” she exclaimed.
“Alva!” reproachfully.
“I mean it all, mamma! I—I would not have my brother’s heart tortured as mine was in my spring of youth.”
“Have we not humored every other whim, my darling?”
“You have been most indulgent, but——” and Alva broke off with a long, quivering sigh.
She was thinking:
“Thou canst not restore me the depth and the truth
Of the dreams that came o’er me in earliest youth;
Their gloss is departed, their magic is flown,