"
"No, I suppose he must not till he is free of his ship. My poor
Anne!"
"Oh no! I know he is safe. I am glad! But the knowledge would
tear your mother to pieces."
"Her soul is in Raymond now, and to be certain of Miles being at
hand would be an unspeakable relief to him. Come and tell them."
"No, no, I can't!" she cried, with a sudden gush of emotion sweeping
over her features, subdued instantly, but showing what it was to
her. "You do it. Only don't let them bring him here."
And Anne flew to her fastness in Frank's attic, while Julius
repaired to Raymond's room, and found him as usual lying tranquil,
with his mother's chair so near that she could hand him the cool
fruit or drink, or ring to summon other help. Their time together
seemed to both a rest, and Julius always liked to look at their
peaceful faces, after the numerous painful scenes he had to
encounter. Raymond, too, was clinging to him, to his ministrations
and his talk, as to nothing else save his mother. Raymond had
always been upright and conscientious, but his religion had been
chiefly duty and obligation, and it was only now that comfort or
peace seemed to be growing out of it for him.
Pages:
560
561
562
563
564
565
566
567
568
569
570
571
572
573
574
575
576
577
578
579
580
581
582
583
584