thomas kinkade gallery

thomas kinkade gallery
'Jane, I never meant to wound you thus. If the man who had but
one little ewe lamb that was dear to him as a daughter, that ate of
his bread and drank of his cup, and lay in his bosom, had by some
mistake slaughtered it at the shambles, he would not have rued his
bloody blunder more than I now rue mine. Will you ever forgive me?'
Reader, I forgave him at the moment and on the spot. There was such
deep remorse in his eye, such true pity in his tone, such manly energy
in his manner; and besides, there was such unchanged love in his whole
look and mien- I forgave him all: yet not in words, not outwardly;
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only at my heart's core.
'You know I am a scoundrel, Jane?' ere long he inquired
wistfully- wondering, I suppose, at my continued silence and tameness,
the result rather of weakness than of will.
'Yes, sir.'
'Then tell me so roundly and sharply- don't spare me.'
'I cannot: I am tired and sick. I want some water.' He heaved a
sort of shuddering sigh, and taking me in his arms, carried me
downstairs. At first I did not know to what room he had borne me;
all was cloudy to my glazed sight: presently I felt the reviving
thomas kinkade gallery