"Don't you see?" he cried. "She does not know me. I have lost her instead
of finding her. I, who have loved her ever since I was a baby, am no more
than a stranger to her. Can't you see how she looks at me? She has
learned to know you, but I am a stranger to her."
"But how could she know you, Paul? She did not know me till it was
explained to her."
"I know," he said. "I don't blame her, but at the same time I cannot
stand it. Can't you help me with her? Can't you tell her how I have loved
her, so that she may understand that at least?"
"Poor Paul!" said Miss Ludington, soothingly. "In my own happiness I had
almost forgotten you. But I can see how hard it must be for you. I will
help you. I will tell her all the story. Oh, Paul! is she not beautiful?
She will love you, I know she will love you when she hears it, and how
happy you will be--happier than any man ever was! I will go to her now."
And, leaving Paul vaguely encouraged by her confidence, she went to find
Ida.
She came upon her in the sitting-room, intently pondering the picture
above the fireplace.
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