e for life; his broken bones had
knitted nicely, and his limbs would be as sound as ever, in time; but
his spine had been injured, and he would never walk upright
again--henceforth he would only be able to get about upon crutches.
How, then, could he live without some one to wait upon him and bear
with him in his future state of helplessness?
"Where shall I go?" he questioned, querulously, when, later, he told
Giulia that his removal had been ordered. "A hotel is the most dismal
place in the world for a sick man."
"Emil, how would you like a home of your own?" Giulia gravely
inquired.
The word "home" thrilled him strangely, making him think yearningly of
his mother and the comforts of his childhood, and an irresistible
longing took possession of him.
"A home!" he repeated, bitterly. "How on earth could I make a home for
myself?"
"I will make it for you--I will go to take care of you in it, if you
like," she quietly answered.
"You!" he exclaimed in surprise, while, with sudden discernment, he
remarked a certain refined beauty in her face that he had never
observed before.
Then he added, with a sullen glance at his useless limbs, a strange
sense of shame creeping over him:
"Do you still care enough for me to take that trouble?"
"I am willing to do my duty, Emil," she gravely replied.
"Ha! you evade me!" he cried, sharply, and piqued by her answer. "Tell
me truly, Giulia, do you still love me well enough to be willing to
devote your life to such a misshapen wretch as I shall always be?"
The woman turned her face away from him, to hide the sudden light of
hope that leaped into her eyes at his words, which she fancied had in
them a note of appeal.
But she had been learning wisdom during her long weeks of service in
the hospital--learning that anything, to be appreciated, must be
hardly won; and so she answered as before, without betraying a sign of
the eager desire that had taken root in her heart:
"I told you, Emil, that I was willing to do my duty. I bear your
name--you are Ino's father--my proper place is in your home; and if
you see fit to decide that we shall all live together under the same
roof, I will do my utmost to make you comfortable, and your future as
pleasant as possible. More than that I cannot promise--now."
"And you really mean this, Giulia?" he questioned, in a low tone.
"Yes, if my proposal meets with your approval, we can at least make
the experiment. If it should not
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