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Alma-Tadema, Laurence, 1865?-1940

"The Wings of Icarus Being the Life of one Emilia Fletcher"

With a dull, wide
gaze he stared at me, then bent over his book again; he had not seen
me; he had merely looked up to get a better view, as it were, of
something he had in mind.
Then I, too, bent my head low, for hot tears stood in my silly eyes,
and, to my surprise, I felt a soft hand tuck my hair behind my ears,
caressingly. I looked up and saw a world of pity in Jane Norton's
face. When presently Gabriel left the room to fetch another volume,
I said:
"Jane, he must never know it."
"My child," she answered, speaking as softly as I had done, "there
is no fear that he should learn it from _me_."
"From me, then?" asked I; "is it so plain?"
"You are as pale as the table," she said. "Take care of yourself,
Em,--don't be unhappy, all's well."
Just then Gabriel came in, and I left soon after. You see what an
enemy I am to myself.
Good night, dearest; I am your
EMILIA.


LETTER XXV.

GRAYSMILL, January 29th.
It is so easy to imagine the bright side of things when one is too
far away to see the truth.


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