Weaker than a Woman — page 21: what you’re looking at

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

12 WEAKER THAN A WOMAN. labors and toils, and working hard, hoping one day to secure a partnership, and then tomarry Violet. He had once thought of leaving Lilford; he felt that the place was but small, the circle of interests limited. Then he put. aside the thought as a temptation; he mustn’t desert his father or leave his business to the hands of strangers. There was something almost heroic in the way in which he - looked round upon the great bright glittering world, with © its magnificent battle-fields of skill and intellect, its great arenas where mind and brain fought mind and brain, and then said to himself, ‘No, my duty lies at home, and I will | ~ work there.” aa He was singularly gifted, this young Englishman, who was brave enough to make duty his guide. People often looked at him in wonder, asking themselves whence had come his clear-cut face—a face of the purest type, with dark clustering hair that waved back from a low, broad brow—his beautiful mouth, that could be rigid and firm, yet often wore a smile as sweet aS a woman’s, the dark eyes that were as true and eloquent as the soul they re- vealed. It was a poetical face, yet combining with the in- tellectual and the ideal something of the practical keenness of a clever man. ~ Darcy Lonsdale formed great hopes for his son; he had rightly estimated his abilities, and he had said to himself ' that in time the best business of the county would be brought tohim. He himself was industrious, honest, and in some degree a good lawyer; but his son was a genius, and the father told himself with a sigh that in these days a touch of genius was needed before one could make a mark in the world. As boy, youth, and man, Felix had loved Violet Haye .—to win her, to make her his wife, had been the one dream of his life. He had had no other; and it was equally cer- tain that up to the present time his love had brought him far more pain than pleasure, far more torment than rest, far more strife than peace. He could never tell whether beautiful Violet cared for him or not—all the country-side knew that he loved her. It seemed to him that the very birds in the trees and the flowers in the hedges knew that. It had never been a secret; but he could not guess whether she cared for him. If ever he felt hopeful and augured much from a kinder word or a sweeter smile than usual, the next time she saw him Violet would be cold.. She was so proud that he could hardly extort a word from her; and comicbooks.com | «el te SiS PA asta FF ee ae Bat een