That Girl of Johnson's — page 203: what you’re looking at

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

192 THAT GIRL OF JOHNSON’S. that made him a charming companion. There was a quiet dignity about him, a new touch of noble manhood in his face, that to her was a revelation. She had guessed, watch- ing him, interested in him, loving Dolores as she loved her —she guessed of the thought he had for her, and she hon- ored him loving such a girl as this grave cousin of hers, this girl so slightingly spoken of among her own neighbors because of her utter height above them, this girl whom her father had hated with his narrow hatred, this girl the personification of womanliness and truth and purity. Dolores turned from the window at his approach, and a sudden sharp sense of everything that had gone, everything that must come in the future, struck her like a knife. She knew that he had read all the evil in her heart, that he must know to what a depth she had fallen—she, her father’s daughter, and she turned to him with a bitter cry, holding out her hands as though for help: ‘He is dead!” she cried, and the watching girl in the door-way felt the hot tears rush to her eyes at sound of the agonizing voice and the agony on the lifted pallid face. ‘‘He is dead, and he does not know I am sorry—he can never know now.” He took her hands in his, and held then close and warm in his strong clasp; his eyes were only full of a great ten- derness and love and longing to comfort her; his voice was tender as a woman’s when he spoke. “I think he does know, Dolores. I believe he does know. ‘To whom much is given much shall be required.’ Therefore, to whom less is given less shall be required. I believe he does know and has forgiven you—and me.” _ ‘“How can he know?” she cried, and Dora’s hand went out to the strong hand near her for strength, watching the lifted icy face before her, never thinking of her eavesdrop- ping, forgetting everything but the agony of the girl. ‘“How can he know when he is dead? When he died before I could tell him—before he could forgive me? Don’t you know that my father is dead ?” jeMaite- EomMmIcbooks.co