There was no wavering after that decision--no regret for the "might have

been," but her face was white as snow, and about the pretty mouth there

was a quivering of the muscles as if the words were hard to utter when

next day she went to Tom, and, sitting down beside him, asked how he was

feeling. His eyes brightened a little when he saw her, but there was a

look on his face which made Daisy's pulse quicken with a nameless fear,

and his voice was very weak as he replied: "They say I am better; but, Daisy, I know the time is near for me to go.

I shall never get well, nor do I wish to, though life is not a gift to

be thrown away easily, and on some accounts mine has been a happy one,

but the life beyond is better, and I feel sure I am going to it."

"Oh, Tom, Tom, don't talk so! You must not leave me now!" Daisy cried,

all her composure giving way as she fell on her knees beside him, and,

taking both his hands in hers, wet them with her tears. "Tom," she

began, when she could speak. "I have been bad to you so often, and

worried and wounded you so much; but I am sorry, so sorry, and I've

thought it all over and made up my mind, and I want you to get well and

ask me that--that--question again--you have asked so many

times--and--and--Tom--I will say--yes--to it now, and try so hard to

make you happy."

Her face was crimson as if with shame, and she dared not look at Tom

until his silence startled her. Then she stole a glance at his face and

met an expression which prompted her to go on recklessly: "Don't look so incredulous, Tom. I am in earnest. I mean what I say,

though it may be unmaidenly to say it. Try me, Tom; I will make you

happy, and, though at first I cannot love you as I did Guy when I sent

him that letter, the love will come, born of your great goodness and

kindness of heart. Try me, Tom, won't you?"

She kissed his thin, white hands where the freckles shone more plainly

than ever, and which Tom tried to free from her; she held them fast and

looked steadily into the face, which shone for a moment with a joy so

great that it was almost handsome, and when she said again, "Will you,

Tom?" the pale lips parted with an effort to speak, but no sound was

audible, only the chin quivered, and the tears stood in his gray eyes as

he battled with the great temptation. Should he accept the sacrifice?

Ought he to join her life with his? Could she ever learn to love him?

No, she could not, and he must put her from him, even though she came

asking him to take her. Thus Tom decided, and, turning his face to the

wall, he said, with a choking sob: "No, Daisy--no. It cannot be. Such happiness is not for me now. I must

not think of it. Thank you, darling, just the same. It was kind in you

and well meant, but it cannot be. I could not make you happy. I am not

like Guy; never can be like him, and you would hate me after a while,

and the chain would hurt you cruelly. No, Daisy, I love you too

well--and yet, Daisy--Daisy--why do you tempt me so--if it could have

been!"




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