That Girl of Johnson's — page 133: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

122 THAT GIRL OF JOHNSON’S. blackness of darkness. There had been little love between her and her father, but he was the only one in the world to her, and now— She spoke, and her voice was like a stranger’s. “Then—he will—die—you think ?” She asked it calmly, except that her lips were whiter than usual and stiff, so that the words came unevenly, His heart ached for her; he knew that she suffered more than most women would suffer; that she was capable of suffer- ing more intensely than she was now. “T think that he may die, Miss Johnson, but we will hope for the best. Be that as it may, it is right for you to know. I beg your pardon for having kept it from you for so long.” “You will let me nurse him?” she asked. i face was lifted to his, and there was not a quiver of a muscle, not the trembling of the white lids fringed with the silken lashes over the steady, searching eyes. ‘““You shall nurse him,” Dr. Dunwiddie replied, gravely, a flash of wondering admiration in his black eyes meeting hers in that comprehensive glance that showed to him the depth of this woman’s soul, the marvelous strength of her self-command. Ay, indeed she should nurse him. Such nerve as this in a woman was something remarkable. Lemuel Johnson’s daughter had been to him a revelation of unselfish suffering in woman, being called to her at once upon their arrival in the town, but even she was nothing compared with this mountaineer’s daughter with no edu- cator but the strength of her own character. . As he turned away toward the bedroom she started to follow him, but Mrs. Allen laid her hand upon her shovl- der, and young Green crossed rn to_ her side, his face softened strangely. ‘‘Don’t go in yet, Dolores—not just yet!” he said, en- treatingly, bending his fair head on a level with hers, the kindly light deepening in his eyes as they met the half comicbooks.com |