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Reade, Charles, 1814-1884

"Love Me Little, Love Me Long"


"You frighten me," sighed Lucy.
"Don't you be frightened, sweet angel; there! I have been used to obey
orders all my life, and I am like a ship tossed in the breakers, and
you are calm--calm as death. Give me my orders, for God's sake."
"It is not for me to command you, Mr. Dodd. I have forfeited that
right. But listen to her who still asks to be your friend, and she
will tell you what will be best for you, and kindest and most generous
to her."
"Tell me about that last; the other is a waste of words."
"I will, then. Your sister is somewhere in the neighborhood."
"She is at ----; how did you know?"
"I saw her on your arm. I am glad she is so near--Oh, so glad! Bid my
uncle and aunt good-by; make some excuse. Go to your sister at once.
_She_ loves you. She is better than I am, if you will but see us
as we really are. Go to her at once," faltered Lucy, who disliked Eve,
and Eve her.
"I will! I will! I have thought too little of my own flesh and blood.
Shall I go now?"
"Yes," murmured Lucy softly, trying to disarm the fatal word. "Forget
me--and--forgive me!" and, with this last word scarce audible, she
averted her face, and held out her hand with angelic dignity, modesty
and pity.
The kind words and the gentle action brought down the stout heart that
had looked death in the face so often without flinching. "Forgive you,
sweet angel!" he cried; "I pray Heaven to bless you, and to make you
as happy as I am desolate for your sake.


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