Van Berg, are you not
a sufficiently sincere friend to tell me my faults?"
"Yes, Miss Ida, if you ask me to."
"Only as you do so can you keep my respect."
"You are very much in earnest. I never saw greater fidelity to
conscience before; and I should be very sorry if, for any cause,
your conscience were arrayed against me."
She suddenly buried her face in her hands and trembled. Then
turning from him to her piano again she faltered: "I disregarded
conscience once and I suffered deeply," and in the depths of her
soul she added, "and I fear I shall again."
"Miss Ida," he said impetuously, "I cannot tell you what
a fascination your new, beautiful life has for me as seen against
the dark background of memories which neither you nor I can ever
wholly banish. But I am causing you pain now," for she became very
pale, as was ever the case when there was the faintest allusion
to the awful crime which she had contemplated. "Forgive me," he
added earnestly, "and sing, please, that little meadow brook song,
of which I caught a few bars last evening. That, I think, must
contain an antidote against all morbid thoughts."
"You are mistaken," she said. "It's very silly and sentimental;
you won't like it.
Pages:
624
625
626
627
628
629
630
631
632
633
634
635
636
637
638
639
640
641
642
643
644
645
646
647
648