I saw her then, almost every day."
"And you loved my mother? Say you did!"
The young man spoke with a rising emotion that he could not
restrain.
"Every body loved her," replied Jenny, simply and earnestly.
For a few moments Mark concealed his face with his hands, to hide
the signs of feeling that were playing over it; then looking up
again, he said--
"Jenny, because you knew my mother and loved her, we must be
friends. It was a great loss to me when she died. The greatest loss
I ever had, or, it may be, ever will have. I have been worse since
then. Ah me! If she had only lived!"
Again Mark covered his face with his hands, and, this time, he could
not keep the dimness from his eyes.
It was a strange sight to Jenny to see the young man thus moved. Her
innocent heart was drawn toward him with a pitying interest, and she
yearned to speak words of comfort, but knew not what to say.
After Mark grew composed again, he asked Jenny a great many
questions touching her knowledge of his mother; and listened with
deep interest and emotion to many little incidents of Jenny's
intercourse with her, which were related with all the artlessness
and force of truth.
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