Mrs. Burleigh
had told Miss Burton the whole story; and she had listened, not
as to a bit of scandal, but as to another instance of that kind of
trouble which ever evoked from her more of sympathy than censure.
Ida might treat her fancied rival, therefore, as coldly as she
chose, but the fact of suffering and the shadow resting upon her from
her father's course, would bind Jennie Burton to her as a watchful
friend with a tie that only returning happiness could sunder.
Stanton and Van Berg were standing together on Saturday evening,
when Mrs. Mayhew and her daughter came down to await the arrival of
the stage. Ida did not see them at first, and Van Berg was again
struck by the pallor and stony apathy of her face. She looked like
one wearied by conflict of mind; but the quiet of her face was not
that of peace or decision. It was simply the vacancy and languor
of one worn out with contending emotions.
"I once said," thought Van Berg, "that she would be beautiful if
she were dead, and her frivolous mind could no longer mar the repose
of her features with the suggestion of petty thoughts and ignoble
vices. By Jove, I never realized how true my words were.
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