Then, according to her custom, she rebuked herself for her pettishness

and ingratitude and determined to make a reparation to honest William

for the slight she had not expressed to him, but had felt for his

piano. A few days afterwards, as they were seated in the drawing-room,

where Jos had fallen asleep with great comfort after dinner, Amelia

said with rather a faltering voice to Major Dobbin-"I have to beg your pardon for something."

"About what?" said he.

"About--about that little square piano. I never thanked you for it

when you gave it me, many, many years ago, before I was married. I

thought somebody else had given it. Thank you, William." She held out

her hand, but the poor little woman's heart was bleeding; and as for

her eyes, of course they were at their work.

But William could hold no more. "Amelia, Amelia," he said, "I did buy

it for you. I loved you then as I do now. I must tell you. I think I

loved you from the first minute that I saw you, when George brought me

to your house, to show me the Amelia whom he was engaged to. You were

but a girl, in white, with large ringlets; you came down singing--do

you remember?--and we went to Vauxhall. Since then I have thought of

but one woman in the world, and that was you. I think there is no hour

in the day has passed for twelve years that I haven't thought of you.

I came to tell you this before I went to India, but you did not care,

and I hadn't the heart to speak. You did not care whether I stayed or

went."

"I was very ungrateful," Amelia said.

"No, only indifferent," Dobbin continued desperately. "I have nothing

to make a woman to be otherwise. I know what you are feeling now. You

are hurt in your heart at the discovery about the piano, and that it

came from me and not from George. I forgot, or I should never have

spoken of it so. It is for me to ask your pardon for being a fool for

a moment, and thinking that years of constancy and devotion might have

pleaded with you."

"It is you who are cruel now," Amelia said with some spirit. "George is

my husband, here and in heaven. How could I love any other but him? I

am his now as when you first saw me, dear William. It was he who told

me how good and generous you were, and who taught me to love you as a

brother. Have you not been everything to me and my boy? Our dearest,

truest, kindest friend and protector? Had you come a few months sooner

perhaps you might have spared me that--that dreadful parting. Oh, it

nearly killed me, William--but you didn't come, though I wished and

prayed for you to come, and they took him too away from me. Isn't he a

noble boy, William? Be his friend still and mine"--and here her voice

broke, and she hid her face on his shoulder.




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