Weaker than a Woman — page 266: what you’re looking at

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

WEAKER THAN A WOMAN. O57 could have died for her, I would have died. And she was kind tome. It drives me mad even now, when I remem- ber that she once placed her arms around my neck and promised to be my wife. Then over the heaven of my con- tent what clouds came! I was working—as man seldom works—to make a home for my darling, and place her in it. I was seeking every picture, every ornament that I thought would beautify a home, for one who would herself adorn it most. What happened? A wealthier lover came —not, mind you, one who loved her more, not one whom she could love—a man, to say the best of him, coarse of soul and hard of heart; he could not even appreciate the exquisite loveliness of my love. He held out his hands to her, and they were filled with gold; he offered her title, money, jewels—everything that women love. He laughed to scorn the notion that any tie tome bound her. ‘Leave him,’ he said—‘he is poor. Come to me—I am rich.’ W hat did she do, this love of mine, who held my heart in her hands ?” The beautiful head drooped lower and lower. ‘Have pity on me, Felix,” she cried, “ have pity !” “1 do not mean to be hard; Iam only telling the truth. That is my version of the story, Violet. What did she do? Did the first noble instincts of true womanhood come to her ? Did she turn with fidelity to me? No. She flung my love back in my face, she trampled my life under her feet, and she crushed my heart in her hand—she jilted me. Nay, do not shrink from the word, Violet; itis the only one. She jilted me—left me to be the subject of men’s laughter and women’s jeers—left me to a burning fire of anguish that nothing could slacken or cool—left me with my life ruined.” | Again she raised her hands to him, and cried: “Have pity on me! You are terribly hard.” “Nay, [am but just, Violet. And then this woman who had left me to laughter and ruin came to me—oh, Heaven, that women can be so light—came to me with a smile, and asked me to take her into my heart again. The past, which had been one long agony to me, was to be condoned by a smile, the torture of years to bé soothed by a few kind words !” He stopped; the passion of his own words mastered him. “You said you had forgiven me, dear,” and Violet’s hands touched his clustering hair. “Yes, I have forgiven you. Listen to me, Violet. She came to me again, this woman who had betrayed me, with (G(e) mn (e(oy payicel exeyo) <S