He was obliged to go to her every three or four days. In the interim she
seemed quite satisfied and happy, busy with the simple and pretty things
she now cared for; but toward the third day of his absence she usually
became restless, asking for him, and why he did not come. And then they
telegraphed him, and he left everything and went, white-faced, stern of
lip, to endure the most dreadful ordeal a man may face--to force the
smile to his lips and gaiety into the shrinking soul of him, and sit
with her in the pretty, sunny room, listening to her prattle, answering
the childish questions, watching her, seated in her rocking-chair,
singing contentedly to herself, and playing with her dolls and
ribbons--dressing them, undressing, mending, arranging--until the heart
within him quivered under the misery of it, and he turned to the
curtained window, hands clinching convulsively, and teeth set to force
back the strangling agony in his throat.
And the dreadful part of it all was that her appearance had remained
unchanged--unless, perhaps, she was prettier, lovelier of face and
figure than ever before; but in her beautiful dark eyes only the direct
intelligence of a child answered his gaze of inquiry; and her voice,
too, had become soft and hesitating, and the infantile falsetto sounded
in it at times, sweet, futile, immature.
Pages:
573
574
575
576
577
578
579
580
581
582
583
584
585
586
587
588
589
590
591
592
593
594
595
596
597