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A Light Shines on My Way

           

           AsIlookedatherbeautifulface,observantofherwork,sheraisedhermildcleareyes,andsawthatIwaslookingather.

           ‘Youarethoughtfultoday,Trotwood!’

           ‘Agnes,shallItellyouwhatabout?Icametotellyou.’

           Sheputasideherwork,asshewasusedtodowhenwewereseriouslydiscussinganything;andgavemeherwholeattention.

           ‘MydearAgnes,doyoudoubtmybeingtruetoyou?’

           ‘No!’sheanswered,withalookofastonishment.

           ‘DoyoudoubtmybeingwhatIalwayshavebeentoyou?’

           ‘No!’sheanswered,asbefore.

           ‘DoyourememberthatItriedtotellyou,whenIcamehome,whatadebtofgratitudeIowedyou,dearestAgnes,andhowferventlyIfelttowardsyou?’

           ‘Irememberit,’shesaid,gently,‘verywell.’

           ‘Youhaveasecret,’saidI.‘Letmeshareit,Agnes.’

           Shecastdownhereyes,andtrembled.

           ‘Icouldhardlyfailtoknow,evenifIhadnotheard—butfromotherlipsthanyours,Agnes,whichseemsstrangethatthereissomeoneuponwhomyouhavebestowedthetreasureofyourlove.

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Roboto Lora
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