I've never seen her like this. If we could cry, I believe she'd be weeping, the poor dear.
I guess it could just be exertion. Judging from what Edward said about sensing where she was when she found this boy, she must have carried him over 100 miles, with him bleeding the entire time. Her strength to resist rivals Carlisle's.
What would have possessed her to put herself through that? Ah, that explains it. The way she's looking down on him with that tender expression on her pretty face, she's in love.
I doubt that she realizes it, but I'm something of an expert in that area. In spite of everything, I loved my first husband, and the love I've had for Carlisle since he changed me far surpasses that.
Poor Rosalie has never felt that. And I, at least, get to be a mother to her and Edward. She'll never know what that's like either...never even hold a child again. No wonder she's always so unhappy.
I can sympathize. I know how devastating it was for me when my baby died so soon after the death of my husband. I didn't want to live. I was so lucky that Carlisle found me after I jumped off of the cliff. He offered me not only his love, but the chance to have a family again. I've found such happiness in this life, with my husband, son and daughter.
Goodness, with my arms around her, I can feel Rosalie's tension. Carlisle's examining the boy, as though looking for a reason not to change him.
He has to do something though. Edward's already gone tearing into the forest to find some creature to sink his teeth into. It's a terrific temptation for all of us to have this young man here, bleeding so freely, on the verge of death.
He's very handsome...virile looking...and very strong to still be living after what he's suffered. I think he would be good for Rosie.
She's beginning to sound more anxious, nearly desperate to convince Carlisle. It's a classic example of the doted-on little girl wheedling Daddy for something. This time though, she's not asking for a new dress; she's asking for a life...maybe for herself, as well as him.
She'll be crushed if he just dies. I can't let that happen to my daughter.
I kneel on the ground next to Carlisle, who is still hesitant. I touch the side of his face. He turns his head in my direction and grasps my hand. We share a look of understanding. "For her, darling," I whisper, "...yes."