Weaker than a Woman — page 199: what you’re looking at

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

™ ce + Ah 4 Pr 190 WEAKER THAN A WOMAN. a mother’s advice. One of the first things Sir Owen asked about was the ball. “Shall you go?” she asked her husband. | | “That I shall,” he replied, “and you, too. Lady Maude Arlington is going; every one who is any one will be there.” It was a favorite festival of his; he enjoyed making him- self popular. He never missed the Hunt Ball. ‘Violet, mind you have a dress worth looking at. Lady Chevenix of Garswood must be second to none on this oce¢a- sion. If there is anything you want, no matter what it costs, you must have it.” She thanked him, but there was neither gratitude nor pleasure in her voice. Bitterly enough she said to herself, “What will it matter if I am covered with diamonds? I shall have a weight of care on my mind which all the dia- monds on earth could not balance—the ever-present fear that my husband will disgrace himself.” But during the next few days Sir Owen improved. The doctor had given him a serious fright; he had assured him that unless he led a more abstemious life he must soon die. He bore the warning in mind, and drank less. He began to interest himself in the ball. Lady Chevenix looked forward to it with pleasure; Lady Maude would be — there, and she liked Lady Maude. Felix would be there, too—she had heard Sir Owen say so. She longed to see him again ; she felt that there would be a sense of rest and pro- tection in his presence that never came to her with any other. She wondered to herself if he would ask her to dance. “T should like to dance with him,” she thought to herself, with a smile that was almost pitiful. She took great interest in her dress and her jewels, hoping that he would notice her presence more than he generally did. Very beautiful she looked in her favorite eolors, white and blue—white satin and blue velvet. With her exquisitely molded arms and. neck—fair as a sculptor’s dream—a diamond necklace clasped around her throat, a diamond cross gleaming on her white breast, she looked like one who could sway men’s hearts. Sir Owen was proud of her, and said so in his blunt fashion. “'There will not be a woman in the room like you, Violet,” he said; and she wondered whether there would be one with such a load of anxiety on her mind. The ball was always held at the Assembly Rooms in- Lilford, It was very exclusive, very select, and at times comicbook