Meta Book

She
had marveled, indeed, at what people were willing to do, and at what they
were ready to sacrifice, for a feeling that seemed to her of such little
importance as that. It had been an illusion, and the waking had come at
last very suddenly. Whoever it might be whom she was destined to take, it
was not Ronald. It was madness to think she could be bound forever to him,
however much she might admire him and desire him as a friend.
When the clock struck she was thinking of John, and the words he had said
that night to his great audience were ringing again in her ears. She
blushed indeed at the idea that she was thinking so much of him, but it
was not that she believed she loved him. If as yet she really did, she was
herself most honestly unconscious of it; and so the blush was not
accounted for in the reckoning she made.
She lay awake long, trying to determine what was best to be done, but she
could not. One thing she must do; she must explain to Ronald, when he
came, that she could never, never marry him.


Pages:
85 86 87 88 89 90 91 92 93 94 95 96 97 98 99 100 101 102 103 104 105 106 107 108 109