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Reade, Charles, 1814-1884

"White Lies"


"No matter; I will be guarded on every side."
"Mustn't I stop and just see her happy for once?"
"No, my poor Jacintha, you must hear it from my lips."
Jacintha retired to keep watch as she was bid. Rose went to Josephine's
room, and threw her arms round her neck and kissed her vehemently.
Josephine returned her embrace, then held her out at arm's length and
looked at her.
"Your eyes are red, yet your little face is full of joy. There, you
smile."
"I can't help that; I am so happy."
"I am glad of it. Are you coming to bed?"
"Not yet. I invite you to take a little walk with me first. Come!"
and she led the way slowly, looking back with infinite archness and
tenderness.
"You almost frighten me," said Josephine; "it is not like you to be all
joy when I am sad. Three whole weeks more!"
"That is it. Why are you sad? because the doctor would not let you go to
Frejus. And why am I not sad? because I had already thought of a way to
let you see Edouard without going so far."
"Rose! O Rose! O Rose!"
"This way--come!" and she smiled and beckoned with her finger, while
Josephine followed like one under a spell, her bosom heaving, her eye
glancing on every side, hoping some strange joy, yet scarce daring to
hope.


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