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A Lady of Quality | Frances Hodgson Burnett | |
"In One who will do justice, and demands that it shall be done to each thing He has made, by each who bears His image" |
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"Thou who didst make him as he was born into Thy world," she said, "deal with that to which Thou didst give life--and death. Show him in this hour, which Thou mad'st also, that Thou art not Man who would have vengeance, but that justice which is God." "Then--then," he gasped--"then will He damn me!" "He will weigh thee," she said; "and that which His own hand created will He separate from that which was thine own wilful wrong--and this, sure, He will teach thee how to expiate." "Clo," he cried again -"thy mother--she was but a girl, and died alone--I did no justice to her!--Daphne! Daphne!" And he shook beneath the bed-clothes, shuddering to his feet, his face growing more grey and pinched. "She loved thee once," Clorinda said. "She was a gentle soul, and would not forget. She will show thee mercy." "Birth she went through," he muttered, "and death--alone. Birth and death! Daphne, my girl--" And his voice trailed off to nothingness, and he lay staring at space, and panting. The duchess sat by him and held his hand. She moved not, though at last he seemed to fall asleep. Two hours later he began to stir. He turned his head slowly upon his pillows until his gaze rested upon her, as she sat fronting him. 'Twas as though he had awakened to look at her. "Clo!" he cried, and though his voice was but a whisper, there was both wonder and wild question in it--"Clo!" |
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A Lady of Quality Frances Hodgson Burnett |
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