Weaker than a Woman — page 171: what you’re looking at

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

162 WEAKER THAN A WOMAN. “What are you doing, Violet?” he cried. “Are you ill? You look as if you had seen a ghost.” ‘‘T have seen one,” she replied, slowly. “What have you been burning? The grate is full of burned paper.” She looked at him with wistful eyes. Their expression did not please him. “T have been burning all the old letters I found in my writing-desk,” she replied. Perhaps she had an idea that he would say something kind to her, but he laughed contemptuously. “What sentimental simpletons women are! Are you going to keep that shabby little desk here? It spoils the room,”’ he said. “T thought it quite a grand piece of furniture once,” she replied. “Did you? Your ideas have altered on many subjects, no doubt. I came to ask you to ride out with me.” Her head ached with repressed emotion, but she dared not refuse. She had learned one lesson already, and that was that she must keep her husband in a good humor if © possible. Now that the novelty and restraint of her pres- ence were wearing off a little, he was beginning to indulge in fits of temper that startled her. She dressed and went out with him. | “Why do you always select the Oldstone Road?” she asked him. ‘Because I like Oldstone far better than Lilford. Most of my property lies in Oldstone. I intend to go to Oldstone Church when I go to church at all, and I shall patronize Oldstone generally.” A painful sense of disappointment stole over her, but she | dared not express her feelings. She had pictured herself, in all the pride of her new state, rustling in her costly silk up the old-fashioned aisle of the dear old church at Lilford, to which all her old friends went. She would have liked to see Felix again, to see how he looked and whether he had altered. She wondered what he would think of her in her new grandeur, and felt curious as to where and how they would meet. Then she remembered their terrible part- ing, and said to herself that she must not think of him. She never saw him. She went several times to Lilford— more than once she drove past Vale House, but she never saw him. Then Garswood filled with guests, and her time was no longer her own. She ought to have been perfectly happy. She was mistress of the most magnificent home in comicboo 8.€0