He,
however, had departed long ago, having bethought himself that his horse
was catching its death o' cold, standing out there with no rug on. She
was entirely alone; she hardly dared to think, for fear something guilty
should be generated in her mind; and, though every moment was pain,
without stop or mitigation, every moment was inestimably precious, too;
it was so much between her and revelation. She almost counted the
seconds as they passed, yet rated them for dragging on so wearily.
Every tick of the little ormolu clock marked away a large part of her
life, and yet was wearisome to so much of it as remained. Sometimes she
debated whether she could not anticipate the end by speaking out at
once, of her own free-will; but no, short as her time was, she could not
afford to lose the smallest fraction of it--no, she could not.
Bethinking herself that her father would be lost to her after the
revelation had taken place, Cornelia felt a consuming desire to enjoy
his love to the fullest possible extent during the interval. She wanted
him to call her his dear daughter--to hold her hand--to pat her
check--to kiss her forehead with his rough, bristly lips--to tell her,
in his gruff, kind voice, that she was a solace and a resource to him.
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