"You may be sure they will not."
So he went. But now she would have been thankful for the
unconsciousness of fainting; that one little speech bore so much
meaning to her hot, irritable brain. Mr. and Miss Benson, all in
their house, would never speak to the boy--but in his home alone
would he be safe from what he had already learned to dread. Every
form in which shame and opprobrium could overwhelm her darling
haunted her. She had been exercising strong self-control for his
sake ever since she had met him at the house-door; there was now
a reaction. His presence had kept her mind on its perfect
balance. When that was withdrawn the effect of the strain of
power was felt. And athwart the fever-mists that arose to obscure
her judgment, all sorts of will-o'-the-wisp plans flittered
before her; tempting her to this and that course of action--to
anything rather than patient endurance--to relieve her present
state of misery by some sudden spasmodic effort, that took the
semblance of being wise and right. Gradually all her desires, all
her longing, settled themselves on one point. What had she
done--what could she do, to Leonard but evil? If she were away,
and gone no one knew where--lost in mystery, as if she were
dead--perhaps the cruel hearts might relent, and show pity on
Leonard; while her perpetual presence would but call up the
remembrance of his birth. Thus she reasoned in her hot, dull
brain; and shaped her plans in accordance.
Pages:
440
441
442
443
444
445
446
447
448
449
450
451
452
453
454
455
456
457
458
459
460
461
462
463
464