"O my darling!" she cried, and clasped
the little fellow to her breast, and carried him into the house with
his arms around her neck and his cheeks against hers.
Evelyn lay, a shadow of her former self, upon a sofa; but in a short
time she recovered her consciousness and, opening her large, sad eyes,
let them rest upon Elizabeth--who still held the boy to her breast.
"I am come to you, Elizabeth. I am come here to die. Do not send me
away. It will not be long."
"Long or short, Evelyn, this is your home. You are very, very welcome
to it. I am glad to have you near me."
There was no more said at that time, but little by little the poor
lady's sorrowful tale was told. After Antony's failure she had returned
to her father's house. "But I soon found myself in every one's way,"
she said, mournfully. "I had not done well for the family--they were
disappointed. I was interfering with my younger sisters--I had no
money--I was an eye-sore, a disgrace. And little Harry was a trouble.
The younger children mocked and teazed him. The day before I left a
servant struck him, and my mother defended the servant. Then I thought
of you. I thought you loved the child, and would not like him to be
ill-used when I can no longer love him."
"I do love him, Evelyn; and no one shall ill-use him while I live.
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