Debby's heart was full of
penitence; she had given so much pain to more than
one that she longed to atone for it--longed to do
some very friendly thing, and soothe some trouble
such as she herself had known. She looked into
the eager face uplifted to her own and thought
of Will, then stooped and touched her lover's
forehead with the lips that softly whispered, "No."
If she had cared for him, she never would
have done it; poor Joe knew that, and murmuring
an incoherent "Thank you!" he rushed away,
feeling very much as he remembered to have felt
when his baby sister died and he wept his grief
away upon his mother's neck. He began his
preparations for departure at once, in a burst of
virtuous energy quite refreshing to behold, thinking
within himself, as he flung his cigar-case into the
grate, kicked a billiard-ball into a corner, and
suppressed his favorite allusion to the Devil,--
"This is a new sort of thing to me, but I can
bear it, and upon my life I think I feel the better
for it already.
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