Page:Wilson - The Boss of Little Arcady (1905).djvu/353

 "They had reason to say it—I never told."

"Of course you never told, Miss Kate!" I seemed to learn a great deal of her from that. She had carried her wound secretly through all those years.

"Poor Little Miss!" I said in spite of myself, and at this quite unexpectedly there befell what I had hoped we might both be spared.

I might not soothe her as I would have wished, so I busied myself in the next room until she called to me. She was putting what touches she could to her eyes with a small and sadly bedraggled handkerchief.

"There is a better reason for telling no one now," she said, "so we must destroy this. Mother might see it."

My grate contained its summer accumulation of waste paper. She laid the picture on this and I lighted the pyre.

"Your mother will see your eyes," I said.

"She has seen them so before." And she gave me her hand, which I kissed.

"Poor Little Miss!" I said, still holding it.

"Not poor now—you have given me back so much. I can believe again—I can believe almost as much as Jim."

But I released her hand. Though her eyes had not quitted mine, their look was one of utter friendliness.