Her Faithful Knight — page 133: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

Darcy’s Sympathy. 129 “Pray forgive me!” he stammered. “Indeed, Miss Knight,. you would not look so angry over the liberty I have taken in looking at your photograph and that of your sister if you knew the deep, the intense interest, I take in you both. Ever since, at Whitlock’s office, I overheard you speaking of her illness, I have been filled with a long- ing to serve you both. A sister’s love for a sister has al- ways seemed to me a thing so beautiful in its utter purity and unselfishness, that I was deeply moved by your words on that occasion. You said then that she was very, very ill, and I have hardly dared to ask you whether she is any better yet. Especially amid the vulgar and tarnished sur- roundings of a theatrical rehearsal I have hesitated to in- trude upon a subject so sacred as your home life. But you will tell me now if she is better, will you not?” Dorothy’s back was turned toward him while she busied herself in closing the doors of the portrait frame and re- placing it on the mantelshelf, and the Hon. Darcy could scarcely conceal the delighted admiration in his eyes as they traveled over the graceful lines of her waist and shoulders. “It is very kind of you, I am sure,” she said at last, turning toward him, and speaking in rather constrained tones. “I have heard this morning from my sister’s nurse, and she is at least no worse.” “She must miss you terribly.” Tears started to Dorothy’s eyes. She turned quickly away to hide them, and spoke again in the same reserved tones. “We have been parted before,” she said. “You must long for the tour to end and set you free.” “No, indeed, I do not,” Dorothy was beginning earn- estly, but there she checked herself. “When one works for one’s living one cannot always choose the locality,” she said. “I write to my sister every day.” b Eomichooks (EC)