The practical question was, How should she get there? But the more
she thought upon the plan the more attractive it grew. The situation
seemed so desperate that she was ready for a desperate remedy. To
remain weak, helpless, and in perpetual dread was impossible.
Her mind also was clear and strong enough for self-arraignment, and
in bitterness she partially condemned herself that she had lost her
chance for happiness. Her conscience had often troubled her that she
had given up so weakly to the habit of invalidism, but she had never
had sufficient motive for the vigorous and sustained effort essential
to overcome it. Indeed, her frailty had seemed a claim upon Graydon,
and made it more natural for him to pet her. Now that she was thinking
deeply, she was compelled to admit that her ill health was to some
extent her fault as well as her misfortune. Circumstances, natural
indolence, and her sister's extreme indulgence had brought about a
condition of life that propagated itself. One languid day was the
parent of another, it was so much easier to dawdle than to act. Thus
she had lost her opportunity. If he had won health, even Graydon
said it would have brought her beauty. She might have secured his
admiration, respect, and even love, instead of his pity.
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