"
"Yes; I have thought of that," she said, musingly.
"There seems to me but one straightforward, high-toned thing for you
to do, Stella, and that is to follow your heart."
He was almost frightened at himself that he spoke with so little
eagerness and longing. His words seemed but the honorable and logical
sequence of what had gone before. For some reason this girl in the
broad light of day did not appear to be the same as when she had
fascinated him in the witching moonlight the evening before. It was
not that her beauty had gone with the glamour of the night, but he
had been breathing a different and a purer atmosphere. Madge had been
revealing what to him seemed ideal womanhood.
In regard to Stella his illusion had so far passed that he thought,
consciously, "Even at her best she is presenting Wildmere traits; her
very self-sacrifice takes on a Wildmere form, and there is a flavor of
Wall Street in it all."
But he still believed that he loved her, and that, if she was equal to
such great though mistaken self-sacrifice for her father, she would,
under his influence, throw off certain imperfections and gain a better
tone.
That such thoughts were passing through his mind was a bad omen for
the continuance of Miss Wildmere's power, and yet the opportunity of
her life was still hers.
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