THE BROTHER'S HAND.
45
The crimson-curtained, pleasant parlour glowed
'With ferns and asters, and a sparkling fire;
The next-day's bride before the mirror showed
The trailing mistiness of a bride's attire.
And Hugh looked at her, smiling from his dream:
He was not happy, quite, nor did he seem;
Yet such sweet vanity he must admire.
'With ferns and asters, and a sparkling fire;
The next-day's bride before the mirror showed
The trailing mistiness of a bride's attire.
And Hugh looked at her, smiling from his dream:
He was not happy, quite, nor did he seem;
Yet such sweet vanity he must admire.
She turned to take a letter that came in,
And read it, and looked at him as she read,
And threw it at his feet. "And be your sin,"
She hoarsely whispered, upon your own head."
"My sin?" "See there, and—say it is not true."
"I will not. All I say is this: if you
Believe it—let to-morrow not begin!"
And read it, and looked at him as she read,
And threw it at his feet. "And be your sin,"
She hoarsely whispered, upon your own head."
"My sin?" "See there, and—say it is not true."
"I will not. All I say is this: if you
Believe it—let to-morrow not begin!"
Then there were angry words, and—"Let us part,"
She moaned, and reached to him her frightened hand,
Thinking that he would hold it—to his heart—
And kiss her pain away, as she had planned:
For she forgave him—what he had not done.
He answered: "As you please." And there was none
To come between them, or to understand.
She moaned, and reached to him her frightened hand,
Thinking that he would hold it—to his heart—
And kiss her pain away, as she had planned:
For she forgave him—what he had not done.
He answered: "As you please." And there was none
To come between them, or to understand.
