so hollow and so low, that the accents were scarce audible, "the last evening that we spent beside the little fountain? Why should coldness have taken the place of that love which I then believed was so happy, so perfect? What could have parted you? At this moment, though your looks are averted, there is love in them, that love which nothing else can supply. I pray of you, let no worldly motive, no false pride, no vanity, come between your affection!"
He was holding a hand of each; and, feebly, he put them together. Norbourne started, for he felt that Ethel did not withdraw hers. He looked at her for a moment; her eyes dropped, but in that sweet and conscious look he read a new world of hope and love.
"God bless you!" said Walter. "Lavinia! my kind, my generous nurse!" added he, in accents more and more broken, "may your kindness to me be requited tenfold! Ah! if my dying words might in aught avail, you would leave"
