Weaker than a Woman — page 68: what you’re looking at

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

WEAKER THAN A WOMAN. —~ 59 ‘He held her hand, and stood looking at her, watching the radiant face with such love in his eyes that a woman must have had a marble heart to resist him. “No,” he said; “you are just the same. You must humor my fancies, Violet. Does not some one say that ‘great love is semi-madness?’ It is true. You must humor my fancies, sweet. Stand here; let this cool breeze blow over you—it will purify you from even the very breath and echo of his words.” , She laughed a low, tremulous laugh, but the words touched her. She stood quite still, and the western wind kissed her face, played with her golden hair, showered the chestnut blossoms over her. “You shall not even have the echo of another man’s — words hanging over you, sweet,” he said. “ Now the breeze has taken it all away.” “Oh, Felix, how much you love me! It makes me trem- ble to think of it.” “You do not understand it even yet,” he replied. As she walked by her lover’s side she could not help feeling the contrast. Who would ever—who could ever love her as this man did? Whoin the whole wide world, she thought, had ever been so loved except herself? The memory of his words thrilled her; they stirred the inmost depths of her soul. How he loved her, this handsome, noble-hearted man! His very heart, his soul and life, seemed wrapped up in her. : Even as she felt these things she could not help noticing the difference. When she had crossed the lawn with Sir Owen she had met nothing but bows, smiles, glances of ad- - miration, ill-concealed envy and wonder. Now that she was once again with Felix no one noticed her, no one spoke to her. It was like being in a different world. Sir Owen had been asked to play croquet, and had re- fused. He had taken a bird’s-eye view of the party—four old maids and a hopeless schoolgirl. It was not in his line, he assured Mrs. Hunter. He would not engage himself in any particular way ; he would only linger and wait, watch- ing for the next glimpse of the beautiful face that had set his heart and brain on fire. He saw her at last, standing with Felix watching the players at lawn-tennis, and the next moment he was by her side. Lady Rolfe, eying him, whispered to Mrs. Hunter: “Sir Owen seems to be infatuated with Violet Haye. Some one should tell him she is engaged. Dear Mrs. Hun- ter, would you mind saying that I should lke to speak to” Eomicbooks (G(@) mn