Weaker than a Woman — page 41: what you’re looking at

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

32 WEAKER THAN A WOMAN. the Limes. He had a very beautiful book that he had bought for Violet, and he wanted to give it to her. It struck him, when he entered the drawing-room at the Limes, that the three assembled there had been speaking of him, their greeting was so awkward, so constrained, so unlike the genial, kindly reception that had always been given to him hitherto. Mrs. Haye held out her hand to him, but her eyes fell, and her husband’s half-murmured words were inaudible; Violet looked embarrassed, and for the first time under that hospitable roof the young lover felt ill at ease. When he laid the volume on the table Mr. Haye took it up. “This must have cost something,” he said, “for it is very handsome. It would be better to save money than to spend it—we none of us know when an evilday may come.”’ “T do not fear evil days,” remarked Felix, with all the sanguine hope of a young man. “The wisest among us may expect them,” said Mr. Haye, briefly. Then the conversation languished, and Felix grew so uncomfortable that he decided upon returning home. He had no misgiving—he thought he had called at an inauspi- cious moment—he had perhaps interrupted some domestic conference. He cared only to see Violet. If she would go to the gate with him, so that he would have time for a few words, all would be well. But when he had said good-night to the two seniors, and asked Violet if she would walk to the gate with him, Mrs. Haye interposed. “Tt is too cold,” she said. ‘“ Violet has been complaining of headache all day; she must not go out.” And the tone was so decided, so stern, that Felix could not oppose Mrs. Haye. He held Violet’s hand one minute in - his; he tried to look into the depths of her beautiful eyes, © but they drooped from his, and he could not see them. He left her with a few whispered words, feeling more un- happy than he had ever felt before. The night was beautiful; the wind was soft and fragrant the sky calm and clear, the moon shining brightly. He smiled as he asked himself why he should be unhappy. What was there to make him so?) Why need he feel de- pressed? Yet the very air around him was filled with whisperings—the night-wind full of sighs. “Iam growing comicbooks.co