Once she ventured to
hope that he would come back again to her fireside, now that his
was desolate, but he refused. Rose Hill henceforth would be his
home, and though it was lonely and drear, he must in a few days go
back to it; for the sake of the little one, doubly dear to him now
that its mother was gone. Oh, how sad was that journey back, and
what a sense of desolation came over him, as he drew near his
home, and knew that Ella was not there!--that never more would
she come forth to meet him--never again would her little feet
stray through the winding walks, or her fairy fingers pluck the
flowers she had loved so well.
It was near the first of July. The day had been rainy and the
evening was dark and cold. Wet, chilly, and forlorn, he entered
the hall and ascended the stairs, but he could not that night go
to the old room and find it empty; and he was passing on to his
library, when the sound of some one singing made him pause, while
a thrill of joy ran through his veins, for he knew that childish
voice, knew it was Dora Deane singing to his child.
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