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Vera, [pseud.], 1865-

"The Doctor's Daughter"


"Your better life is worthier of you, Dr Campbell," I managed to
reply. "You were disposed, I must admit, to make too little of your
energies, which are above the ordinary level."
"It was hardly my fault," he said sadly, "I was in a sort of stupor, I
believe. I rejected the light of faith and morals from my life, and
tried to imagine myself above it. What else could I expect but the
result which followed?"
He was terribly in earnest, his brow was deeply contracted and his
face was whiter than the pale moonlight.
"Then you are a better man for it in every way, I perceive," was my
timid rejoinder.
"I hope so, Amey, I have tried hard to be."
I was startled by the mention of my own name in such a solemn tone,
but my heart was swelling with a rushing tide of sympathy for the man
who had so pronounced it.
"Then you will not regret it, believe me," I said, infusing a buoyant
encouragement into my voice.
"No, I will not, I feel sure," he answered, disengaging his hands and
leaning one elbow on the bar to support his face in his palm. We stood
for a few seconds in silence, during which I looked abstractedly into
the space before me. I knew that his eyes were turned upon me,
although I could not see them. Suddenly he said in a low tone, almost
in a whisper.
"I wish I could read your thoughts, Amey?"
I looked at him quickly, and laughed. Before I had time to make any
reply, the door of the house was opened wide, and cousin Bessie
accompanied by her husband and Louis, stepped out upon the platform.


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