But those words "I am not," made no little impression on me, and a day or two later, when I had taken Linny in some flowers, I was thinking very deeply about them, and perhaps my thoughts may have influenced the mind of the poor girl, for she suddenly laid her thin white hand upon my arm and said: "Antony, do you ever see Mr Lister now?" "No," I said; "I have never seen him since the day of that scene with Miss Carr." "Tell me about it--all about it," she said sharply. I stared at her aghast, and tried to excuse myself, but her eyes looked at me so imploringly that I felt compelled, and related all that I had heard and seen. She lay with her eyes half-closed during my recital, and when it was ended the poor, weak, wasted girl took one of my hands between both of hers, and held it to her breast, caressing it silently the while. "Oh, Linny, dear," I said, "what have I done! I ought not to have told you all this. You are going to be worse. Let me call Stephen!" "No, no, no," she wailed. "Hush, hush! You must not wake poor mamma?" "Let me call up Mary." "No, no," she sobbed; "sit still--sit still, Antony dear; you have always been to me like a brother, and you have known all. I have no girl friends of my own age, but I can talk to you." "No; let's talk of something else," I said earnestly. "You must not think about the past." "I must think about it, or I shall die," she said, adding pathetically, "no, no, don't get up. I shall be better now. There, you see, I have left off crying." She seemed to make an effort over herself, and in a few minutes she looked up at me smiling, but her poor face was so wasted and thin that her smile frightened me, and I was again about to call for help. "No, no," she said; "I am better now. Antony dear, I could not get well, but felt as if I was wasting away because I could not see him. Oh, Antony, I did love him so, and I felt obliged to obey him in all he wished. But it was because I thought him so fond and true. I have felt all these long months that he loved me very dearly, and that if I could only see him--if I could only lay my head upon his arm, and go to rest, I should wake up well. I always thought that he loved me very dearly, and that some day he would come and say I was to be his wife. Stephen thought I hated him for his cruel ways, but I did not, I could not. I do not even hate him now. I am only sorry." "But you don't want to see him again, Linny?" I said. "No, no: not now," she replied with a shudder. "I know now that he never loved me. I never understood it all before, Antony. I pray God I may never see his face again." There was something very impressive in her words, and, closing her eyes, she lay back there so still that I thought she was asleep, but the moment I tried to withdraw my hand she clung to it the more tightly, and looked up at me and smiled.