Weaker than a Woman — page 110: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

~ ~¢t - 2 Sai, ‘ ; me 4 - >. ‘ ne As >, a F o xe wd - x ~ - ‘ ‘ © Be oe wees BO 8 P 4 to 4 ee e ae ee . ee | ay! eke ees 4 nls oO” ak a ls Fe ' F WEAKER THAN A WOMAN. ———s*'11202 laugh at her. It would be like going out of the world at once. But then—and her heart grew warm at the thought —she would have l’ehx—Felix, who loved her so dearly— Felix to whom the ground she trod on was sacred. She would be with him, and she would have the happy con- sciousness of having done what was right; she would have done her duty, and she might be happy after all. Then came the other side of the picture—and the girl’s brain whirled as she tried to understand it, tried to realize it. If she married Sir Owen, she would be mistress of magnificent Garswood—she would be mistress of all its grandeur, of the superb grounds, the gorgeous pictures, the wonders of silver and gold; they would be hers to use when she liked and how she liked. She would be Lady Chevenix, patroness of balls, queen of the county; she would be able to patronize Lady Rolfe in her turn, to pun ish those who had dared to think she required warning ; she could have dresses such as she had not dreamed of; she would be great, wealthy, and powerful. But there would be no Felix with all this; she would have to give him up, and she would live the remainder of her life with a sense of having acted unfairly—of having betrayed such ' love and faith as were given to few women. Those were the two paths that lay so clearly and so dis- tinctly mapped out before her. In her heart she loved Felix—and she knew it; but that same heart longed for wealth and luxuries such as Helix could never give her— that same heart recoiled from the poverty, the struggles, the hard work, the economy, the daily cares that must at- tend her as the wife of Felix Lonsdale. She disliked all | such; she remembered how, even when things looked brightest, she had stood in the house that had belonged to the Hendersons, wondering what her life would be lke there, and recalled the curious sensation that had come over her of there not being enough there to fill her life. Then she laughed a little bitter laugh as she flung away the wild flowers that she was holding. “I have a desire to be rich,” she said, “but none to be noble. Iam not noble. I see the right and honorable path, but I have not the strength to follow it. I hate myself for being what I am, but I cannot change.” She made no false excuses -to herself; she gave no high- flown name to the sin she was about to commit. Mammon tempted her, and she fell; the spirit of the world, the pride of life, the love of riches had all entered her soul, and taken possession of it. She did not disguise from Comicbooks (ele)