Weaker than a Woman — page 219: what you’re looking at

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

210 WEAKER THAN A WOMAN. “Shall we sit down here,” said Lady Chevenix, “ by the lake side, and watch the light die out over the water ?” They sat down, the two ladies side by side, Felix, near- est to Miss Hethcote, at their feet. Marian was talking gayly to him; Lady Chevenix said but little. He who once loved her with such a passionate love looked at her. No dream of poet or painter could ever have been more fair. The evening light fell upon her face, which was raised to the sky as she watched the crimson clouds; it touched her golden hair and was reflected by the rich jewels that she wore. She had thrown a white lace shawl over her white neck and bare arms; a corner of it was over her head, and the shadow of it softened her features. She listened to the lively sallies of her girl-friend, wondering if she should ever again be so happy, so light of heart. Then Marian sang a quaint little song—a ballad telling the story of a knight who had ridden away to the Holy Land, leaving a girl-bride who died while he was away—a sweet, sad song, just suited to the hour and the gloaming. “Now, Lady Chevenix,” she said, “ you must sing for us, too; sing that beautiful song you were practicing this morning.” “I was not practicing,” returned Lady Chevenix. “I - was trying to put some words to an airl think very sad and sweet. If you would like to hear it, I will sing it. Would you care to hear it, Mr. Lonsdale ?” He murmured some commonplace words about his hav- ing always liked good music. She smiled bitterly to her- in Bagi then, in a low, sad, sweet voice, she sang these words : ‘«< Ves, dear, our love is slain— In the cold grave for evermore it lies, Never to wake again Or light our sorrow with its starry eyes; And so regret is vain. **« We should have seen it shine Long years beside us. Time and Death might try To touch that love divine, Whose strength could ev'ry other stroke defy Save—only mine! | ‘No longing can restore Our dead again. Vain are the tears we weep ; And vainly we deplore Our buried love. Its grave lies dark and deep Between us evermore,’ ” comicbooks.co - AP dag SOE