Weaker than a Woman — page 50: what you’re looking at

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

WEAKER THAN A WOMAN. : 41 love for ii was not as true and as fervent as his love for her. “Have you some good news there, Felix?’ asked the feeble voice of his father; and the next moment Felix had — repressed the emotion So rapidly mastering him, as he crushed the letter in his hand. “It is only a note from Violet, father,” he replied, and the satisfied smile on his father’s face rewarded him. Darcy Lonsdale knew that while Violet was true to his idolized son nothing else would hurt him. They were alone—father and son—for Kate had gone to the nursery—when the hall-door bell rang. Felix said, cheerfully : “ Here is a visitor.” , : “Few visitors will come here; we have lost a fortune, - not found one,” said Darcy Lonsdale, who had never spoken a cynical word before. But it was a visitor, and one whom they were both well content to see. It was Evelyn Lester, with a basket of grapes and delicacies of all kinds for the invalid, and, what was better still, with the light of love and kindness on her sweet face, and with words of sympathy on her lips. As Felix saw her bending over his father, he half wished for a moment that Violet had done something lke this—had come to see them in their distress. Then he blamed him- self for wishing that she were other than she was. Violet was a goddess to be worshiped—Evelyn a mortal woman. He saw his father’s face brighten as the girl’s sweet voice soothed him with well-chosen words. “I knew you would come, Eve,” he said. “Felix, place a chair for her close here by my side; it is like breathing the fresh air of May to look at you, Eve. Now tell me, child, something that will brighten me.” It was a pretty picture—the invalid lying on his couch, the girl with her sweet face and earnest eyes bending over him, and, watching them at a distance, the handsome son; the fire burned brightly, the lamps were lighted, while outside the north wind wailed mournfully. Kvelyn took up a bunch of ripe purple grapes. “TI want to see you eat some of these,” she said. ‘“ Mrs. Lonsdale told me that you ate nothing yesterday.” And taking the grapes one by one in her white fingers she held them to his lips. How could he refuse? He was so weak and feeble, he — had been so completely crushed by cruel words, that ‘the girl’s simple kindness moved him, Gomichbooks.co m