"
"Oh!" I exclaimed. "When I'm not doing you _any_ harm!"
He glanced up from his work, and then, as if on an irresistible impulse,
left the chain to come and stand beside me, as I sat wrapped up in his
gift "for a good girl."
He gazed at me for a moment without speaking, and I wonderingly returned
the gaze, not knowing what was to follow.
The moon had come sailing up like a great silver ship, over the snow
billows, and gleamed against a sky which was still a garden of
full-blown roses not yet faded, though sunset was long over. The soft,
pure light shone on his dark face, cutting it out clearly, and he had
never looked so handsome.
"You don't mean to do _me_ any harm, do you?" he said.
"I couldn't if I would, and wouldn't if I could," I answered in
surprise.
"Yet you _do_ me harm."
"You're joking!"
"I never was further from joking in my life. You do me harm because you
make me wish for something I can't have, something it's a constant fight
with me, ever since we've been thrown together, not to wish for, not to
think of. Yet you say I'm cross! Now, do you know what I mean, and will
you help me a little to remain your faithful brother, instead of
tempting me--tempting me, however unconsciously, to--to
wish--for--for--what a fool I am! I'm going to finish my mending.
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