It is cruelty to him, for that selfish girl will never
make him happy. Even after he marries her he will be only one among
many, and the ballroom glare will be more to her than the light of her
own hearth."
Such thoughts had been in Madge's mind, and self-control had been no
easy matter. When to all had been added the excitement of the storm
and his unexpected words, her overstrained nerves gave way. She
was too desperately unhappy for the common fear which temporarily
overwhelmed many--the greater swallows up the less--but the storm had
led to words that both wounded and alarmed her. Why did she so perplex
him? What had the lightning's gleam revealed, to be understood when
he should think it all over? Could the truth of her love, of which she
was so conscious, be detected in spite of her efforts and disguises?
Was she doomed, not only to failure and an impoverished life, but also
to the humiliation of receiving a lifelong, yet somewhat complacent
pity from Graydon, and possibly the triumphant scorn of her rival?
With these thoughts surging in her mind she locked herself in her room
and sobbed like the broken-hearted girl she felt herself to be. The
passing storm was nothing to her. A heavier storm was raging in her
soul, nor had it ceased when the skies without grew cloudless and
serene.
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