Weaker than a Woman — page 39: what you’re looking at

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

30 ‘'WEAKER THAN A WOMAN No unfriendly criticisms reached Felix Lonsdale’s ears— none could have hurt him. He had now the one great prize of his life; he was happy beyond all power of words to tell. It pleased him, too, that all his friends and neigh- _ bors took such kindly interest in him; it was pleasant to _ meet with congratulations and good wishes—to see life lying so fair and so clear before him—to feel his youth and his strength—to feel his happiness thrilling every vein. He felt that he had nothing left in life to wish for; Heaven had been good to him, and had granted him his heart’s de- ‘sire. He would have felt a little happier perhaps had — Violet been less coy. But that very coyness had a charm of its own; it suited her; he could not imagine her other than coy; and, as for doubt or fear or mistrust, such shadows never darkened his mind. The heaven of his love was clear and cloudless. Violet would grow less coy in time; it was better for her to be shy and reserved as she was than lay herself out for admiration as some did. He had settled in his own mind that he would persuade her to become his wife before chill October killed the flowers and stripped the trees. So he thought and hoped and dreamed, while a cloud was rising in the distance no larger than a man’s hand. One day Darcy Lonsdale returned with a perplexed look on his face to his new house. His wife, wondering at it, asked him : ~ What is the matter, Darcy ?” After thinking for a few minutes he answered : “ Nothing ; my brain seems to be full of foolish fancies.” The next time he returned home it was evening, and the pleasant tea-table, the happy circle of bright faces, might have gladdened any man’s heart; but Darcy Lonsdale looked dull. Again his wife asked what was wrong, and he laughed uneasily, she thought. “The very air seems thick with fancies,” he answered. _ “I saw three of my best friends this morning standing in | a group in Castle street, and when I joined them I knew by the startled, embarrassed expression on each man’s face that they had been talking about me.” “ What could they have to say about you?” asked Kate. “It was all fancy, Darcy.” “No; Iam sure they were speaking of me. I went to the bank this morning, and as I was entering the door I dis- tinctly heard the manager say, ‘Mistaken in Lonsdale.’ I heard the words as plainly as you hear them now. He was comicbooks. (ao)