I want to look at
you.'
She sits on the hearthstone by Dick's feet.
Shyly, 'Am I all right?'
It is Dick who answers. 'You're awfully pretty, Laura. You are even
prettier than I thought. I remember I used to think, she can't be quite
as pretty as I think her; and then when you came you were just a little
prettier.'
She has been warming her hands. 'Why don't you say anything?' she asks
Mr. Don.
'I was thinking of you and Dick, Laura.'
'What a pretty soul she has, father,' says the boy; 'I can see right
down into it now.'
'If Dick had lived, Laura, do you think that you and he--?'
With shining eyes, 'I think--if he had wanted it very much.'
'I expect he would, my dear.'
There is an odd candour about Dick's contribution. 'I think so, too, but
I never was quite sure.' They are a very young pair.
Laura is trembling a little. 'Mr. Don--'
'Yes, Laura?'
'I think there is something wicked about me. I sometimes feel quite
light-hearted--though Dick has gone.'
'Perhaps, nowadays, the fruit trees have that sort of shame when they
blossom, Laura; but they can't help doing it.
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