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Updated: June 1, 2025
And here was Theophil rising from his desk and coming to her with true love in his eyes, as he had done so many, many happy nights. Was it, after all, a dream that terrible picture of two lighted figures that was for ever in her eyes?
Then she refilled their glasses with wine, and breaking the seal of the little white packet, took from it a small bottle of green crystal, the contents of which she mingled with the wine. Then she and Theophil held up their glasses to each other. "Let us go deeper into the wood," she said softly.
For a moment, to their eternal sorrow, they forgot all but that they were once more alone and together; and as they sought each other's arms, standing in the centre of that grim little room, a weak anguish came over Theophil, and he exclaimed, "Oh, Isabel, to think that I have lost you! lost you!" But Isabel was stronger: "No, dear, you have not lost, you have found me.
"Theophil," said one voice, "if I should be dying, and I should send for you, will you promise me to come?" "Isabel," said another voice, "if I should be dying, and I should send for you, will you promise me to come?" And each voice vowed to the other, and said, "I would come, and I would go with you." And all these words had once been Jenny's, but they had been Isabel's first.
Is your lady true? You will ask that only when you ask: Is she beautiful? Such confidence as this is comparatively common in friendship, but it is very rare in love: whether it was to be justified in the case of Isabel and Theophil, time alone could show.
Well, we can talk of Theophil again. Meanwhile Jenny was as much in love with her herself, and he held Jenny's hand and loved her, O yes, so dearly and was quite safe. Fear not, little Jenny; it was only death, you remember, that was to separate Jenny and Theophil. Mrs. Talbot if she won't bore you had made an interesting remark.
"It seems to have been invented just to separate those who want to be together. It seems so arbitrary, so unnecessary." "I suppose death is a form of distance," said Theophil, irrelevantly. "Life too, I'm afraid," said Jenny. "Yes, indeed, life too," assented Theophil, dreamily. "If I were to die," said Jenny, suddenly, "would you still do what we said?" "Why do you ask that, dear?
When the fairy prince came and kissed it, there was no telling to what beauty it would awake. The fairy prince! That was going to be our friend Theophil, of course. Well, of course, though it's a little early on to admit it. However, I am unequal to the task of concealing from the hawk-eyed reader through a succession of chapters that Jenny and Theophil were to be each other's "fates."
"Theophil," she said, after a silence, "have you forgotten something we said to each other that day, something we promised?" For answer he looked at her with awed and suddenly enlightened eyes. "Do you mean that?" he asked. "You mustn't mean that." "Do you think I could care any more for life?" she asked. "Would you?" "No," he answered simply. "May I, then?" His eyes could alone answer.
Then the misery flooded over her again in an irresistible sea, in which all kind words fell powerless as snowflakes; her resolution broke down, and with terrible sobs she flung herself into Theophil's arms. "O Theophil, my heart is breaking, my heart is breaking." Theophil was to feel her crying thus against his bosom till the end of his life.
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