"
She stood near to him.
"Dear,--I will call you so, it is for the last time,--you think
these things in the worst moment of our suffering; afterwards you
will thank me for having been strong enough, or cold enough, to be
your conscience. There _is_ such a thing as duty; it speaks in your
heart and in mine, and tells us that we must part."
"You speak so lightly of parting. If you felt all that I--"
"My love is no shadow less than yours," she said, with earnestness
which was well nigh severity. "I have never wavered from you since I
knew you first"
"Ida!"
"I meant no reproach, but it will perhaps help you to think of that.
You _did_ love her, if it was only for a day, and that love will
return."
She moved from him, and he too rose.
"You shame me," he said, under his breath. "I am not worthy to touch
your hand."
"Yes," she returned, smiling amid her tears, "very worthy of all the
love I have given you, and of the love with which _she_ will make
you happy. I shall suffer, but the thought of your happiness will
help me to bear up and try to live a life you would not call
ignoble. You will do great things, and I shall hear of them, and be
glad. Yes; I know that is before you.
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