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, perhaps, and then away to sunny France, where many a wonderful cure had been wrought, and might be wrought again. The bridal was over, and the congratulations nearly so; when a stranger was announced, an uninvited guest, and from his armchair in the corner Louis saw that it was the same kind face which had bent so fearlessly over his pillow little more than six months before. James De Vere--the name was echoed from lip to lip, but did not penetrate the silent chamber where Maude sat weeping yet. A rapid glance through the rooms assured the young man that she was not there: and when the summons to supper was given he went to Louis and asked him for his sister. "She is upstairs," said Louis, adding impulsively: "she will be glad you have come, for she has talked of you so much." "Talked of me!" and the eyes of James De Vere looked earnestly into Louis' face. "And does she talk of me still?" "Yes," said Louis, "I heard her once when she was asleep, though I ought not to have mentioned it," he continued, suddenly recollecting himself, "for when I told her, she blushed so red, and bade me not to tell." "Take me to her, will you?" said Mr. De Vere, and following his guide he was soon opposite the door of Maude's room. "Wait a moment," he exclaimed, passing his fingers through his hair, and trying in vain to brush from his coat the dust which had settled there. "It don't matter, for she can't see," said Louis, who comprehended at once the feelings of his companion. By this time they stood within the chamber, but so absorbed was Maude in her own grief that she did not hear her brother until he bent over her and whispered in her ear, "Wake, sister, if you're sleeping. He's come. He's here!" She had no need to ask of him who had come. She knew intuitively, and starting up, her unclosed eyes flashed eagerly around the room, turning at last toward the door where she felt that he was standing. James De Vere remained motionless, watching intently the fair, troubled face, which had never seemed so fair to him, before. "Brother, have you deceived me? Where is he?" she said at last, as her listening ear caught no new sound. "Here, Maude, here," and gliding to her side, Mr. De Vere wound his arm around her, and kissing her lips, called her by the name to which she was getting accustomed, and which never sounded so soothingly as when breathed by his melodious voice. "My poor, blind Maude," was all he said, b
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