The first Elsie threw carelessly aside, as of little worth; the other she
held long in her hands; gazing intently upon it, again and again wiping
away the fast-falling tears.
"It is his own noble, handsome face," she murmured. "Oh, to think I shall
not see it again in this world! How good of him to hive it taken for me!"
and again she gazed and wept.
Turning to her companion she was startled by the expression of mingled
love and anguish in his eyes, which were intently fixed upon the other
photograph; he having taken it up as she threw it aside.
"Oh Harold!" she moaned, in low, agitated tones.
He sighed deeply, but his brow cleared, and a look of peace and
resignation stole over his face as he turned his eyes on her.
"I think there is no sin in the love I bear you now, Elsie," he said; "I
rejoice in your happiness and am willing to see you in the possession of
another; more than willing, since I must so soon pass away. But it was
not always so; my love and grief were hard to conquer, and this--bringing
you before me just as you were that night that gave you to another and
made my love a sin--brought back for a moment the anguish that wrung my
heart at the sight."
"You _were_ there, then?"
"Yes; just for a few moments.
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