She would not see that he loved her. Tossing in his bed, he spoke out to her. "Good God, Amelia!" he said, "don't you know that I only love you in the world--you, who are a stone to me--you, whom I tended through months and months of illness and grief, and who bade me farewell with a smile on your face, and forgot me before the door shut between us!" The native servants lying outside his verandas beheld with wonder the Major, so cold and quiet ordinarily, at present so passionately moved and cast down. Would she have pitied him had she seen him? He read over and over all the letters which he ever had from her--letters of business relative to the little property which he had made her believe her husband had left to her--brief notes of invitation--every scrap of writing that she had ever sent to him--how cold, how kind, how hopeless, how selfish they were!

She would not see that he loved her. Tossing in his bed, he spoke aloud.
"Good God, Amelia!" he said, "don't you know that I only love you in the world - you, whom I tended through months of illness and grief, and who bade me farewell with a smile on your face, and forgot me before the door shut between us!" He read over and over all the letters which he ever had from her - how cold, how kind, how hopeless, how selfish they were!
