I feel as if I could not bear it; she was like a mother to me in Paris.

Oh, if I could have seen her!' 'You were one of her chief thoughts at the last,' said Kendal, much moved.

And he went on to tell her the story of Marie's dying hours, describing that gentle withdrawal from life with a manly tenderness of feeling and a quick memory for all that could soften the impression of it to the listener.

And then he brought out the miniature and gave it to her, and she accepted it with a fresh burst of sorrow, putting it to her lips, studying it and weeping over it, with an absolute spontaneity and self-abandonment which was lovely because it was so true.
'Oh, poor M.de Chateauvieux!' she cried after a long pause, looking up to him.

'How will he live without her?
He will feel himself so forsaken!' 'Yes,' said Kendal huskily; 'he will be very lonely, but--one must learn to bear it.' She gazed at him with quick startled sympathy, and all her womanly nature seemed to rise into her upturned face and yearning eyes.