And yet she must have always really felt just as she did
to-night; only she had never realized it, never at all. Why had it come
over her so suddenly too? It would have been so much better if she could
have seen the truth at home, before she parted from him; for it would be
so hard for him to bear it now, after coming across the ocean to see her
--so cruelly hard. Dear Ronald; and yet he must be told.
Yes, there was no doubt about it, the very first meeting must explain it
to him. He would say--what would he say? He would tell her she liked some
one else better.
Some one else! Some one who had stolen away her heart; of course he would
say that. But he would be wrong, for there was no one else, not one of all
these men she had seen, who had so much as breathed a word of love to her.
None whom she liked nearly so much as Ronald, no, not one.
For a long time she sat very quietly, following a train of thought that
was half unconscious. Her lips moved now and then, as though she were
repeating something to herself, and gradually the pained and anxious
expression of her face melted away into a look of peace.
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