It had made an impression on Graydon, however, that
he could not shake off readily.
Emotion, if forced, has little power except to repel, but even a
glimpse of deep, suppressed feeling haunts the memory, especially if
its cause is half in mystery.
Madge had set her heart on one thing, had worked long and patiently
for its attainment, had hoped and prayed for it, and within the last
few hours was feeling the bitterness of defeat. The event she so
dreaded seemed inevitable, even if it had not already occurred. The
expression on Graydon's face when she had first met him after his long
ramble with Miss Wildmere had been that of a tranquilly happy lover,
whose heart was at rest in glad certainty. Why should he not have
spoken? what greater encouragement could he ask than the favor she
herself had seen? During his long absence another girl had apparently
been waiting for him also, "But not working for him," she sighed, "and
keeping herself aloof from all and everything that would render her
less worthy. While I sought to train heart, body, and soul to be a fit
bride, she has dallied with every admirer she met, and now wins him
without one hour of self-denial or effort. It is more bitter than
death to me.
Pages:
181
182
183
184
185
186
187
188
189
190
191
192
193
194
195
196
197
198
199
200
201
202
203
204
205