The evening before she had chilled their
hearts by her unnatural and icy words and bearing. Now there was
an expression of humility and diffidence wholly unlike anything
he had ever seen before. She did not seem inclined to enter into
conversation, and yet she was not repellant and cold, but rather
seemed to shrink from notice, and to indicate that past memories
were embarrassing. But she would not look at her cousin, for she
still felt a deep resentment towards him. She was no saint because
she had cherished some good thoughts and impulses that day, and as
for poor Stanton, he became so depressed that he lapsed into utter
silence.
Miss Burton was becoming deeply interested in Ida. When she saw
her crimson face as the artist hastened to the phaeton, a sudden
light had flashed into her eyes, and the thought crossed her mind:
"Mr. Van Berg is the magician who is unwittingly practising upon
her and making her so unlike her former self," and as she hurriedly
recalled the past, she found there was much in Ida's manner not
inconsistent with this theory. Still it was not with any prying,
gossipy interest, that she observed closely, in order to discover
if there were good reasons for her surmise.
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