Man and Maid

"I pass there every day," she said.

I thanked her--.

"I hope you did not hurry back to your work--I can't bear to think that

perhaps you would have wished to remain at home now."

"No, it does not matter"--There was an infinite weariness in her

tone--A hopeless flatness I had never heard before, it moved me so that

I blurted out--.

"Oh! I have felt so anxious, and so sorry--I saw you in the Bois two

Sundays ago in the thunder storm, and I tried to get near the path I

thought you would cross to offer you the carriage to return in, but I

missed you--Perhaps your little brother caught cold then?"

There was a sob in her voice--.

"Yes--will you--would you mind if we just did not speak of anything but

began work."

"Forgive me--I only want you to know that I'm so awfully sorry--and Oh,

if there was anything in the world I could do for you--would you not let

me?"

"I appreciate your wish--it is kind of you--but there is nothing--You

were going to begin the last chapter over again--Here is the old one--I

will take off my hat while you look at it," and she handed it to me.

Of course I could not say anything more--I had had a big bunch of

violets put on the table where she types, in Burton's room

adoining--they were the first forced ones which could be got in

Paris--and I had slipped a card by them with just "my sympathy" on it.

When she came back into the room hatless, her cheeks were bright pink

below the glasses--and all she said was "Thank you" and then I saw a

little streak of wet trickle from under the horn rims. I have never had

such a temptation in my life--to stretch out my arms and cry "Darling

one, let me comfort you, here clasped close to me!"--I longed to touch

her--to express somehow that I felt profoundly for her grief.

-"Miss Sharp--" I did burst out--"I am not saying anything because I know

you don't want me to--but it is not because I do not

feel--I'm--I'm--awfully sorry--May not I perhaps send some roses

to--your home--or, perhaps there is someone there who would like

them--flowers are such jolly things!"--Then I felt the awfully ill

chosen word "jolly" was--but I could not alter it.

I believe that gaucherie on my part helped though a little, her fine

senses understood it was because I was so nervously anxious to offer

comfort--a much kinder note came into her voice--.