[CHAPTER X.]
Olney Winthrop was detained away for four days on account of illness, but on the fifth he came again.
He was pale and haggard, and about the mouth there was a wistful expression that touched Carlita in the old, fond way. She went up to him and placed her hand upon his shoulder with a loving gesture.
"You have been ill," she said; "but I did not dream that it had been so bad. Why did you not let me come to you?"
"You would have come?"
"Can you ask?"
She looked pathetically into his eyes and allowed him to kiss her. It brought a flush to his pallid cheeks and a warm light to his worn eyes.
"I wonder if man was ever blessed with so sweet a love as I?" he asked, more of himself than of her, his voice low with emotion. "Carlita, if I should lose you, death, by any means whatever, would be a happy release. You love me, darling? Say it once again. It is not that I doubt, but only that I adore the sound of the words from your exquisite lips."
She shivered slightly, some of the bright color fading from the olive cheek.