She would write him a letter
that would harrow his very soul, informing him that she had taken
his hint and followed his suggestion. Since he had thrown away
the emblem of herself as a worthless and unsightly thing, she had
thrown herself away, so that faultless taste and faultless people
might be no more offended by the presence of so much imperfection.
For a moment her eyes glowed with exultation over his imagined
dismay as he read this message from one to whom no reparation could
be made; and then better and more wholesome feelings resumed their
sway. Perverted, misguided, and uncounselled as she was, she was
too young, too near the mother heart of nature, not to react from
the false and the evil towards the simple and the true.
She threw herself upon her couch. "Oh, that I might live and be
happy!" she sobbed. "If in the place of the bitter frost of his
words and manner he would give me but one ray of kindness, I would
try to bloom, even though but a poor worm-eaten bud."
Frowns blight far more flowers than October nights.
Chapter XXXIII. "Hope dies Hard."
When alone with his friend after supper, Stanton broke out, "Since
Ida can't exist without the sight of that wretch, Sibley, I wish
she would follow him to New York.
Pages:
335
336
337
338
339
340
341
342
343
344
345
346
347
348
349
350
351
352
353
354
355
356
357
358
359