Hopelessly defeated in the one way of aspiration which promised a
large life, her being, rebellious against the martyrdom it had
suffered, went forth eagerly towards the only happiness which was
any longer attainable. Her beauty was a dead thing; never by that
means could she command homage. But there is love, ay, and
passionate love, which can be independent of mere charm of face. In
one man only could she hope to inspire it; successful in that, she
would taste victory, and even in this fallen estate could make for
herself a dominion.
In these few hours she so wrought upon her imagination as to believe
that the one love of her life had declared itself. She revived every
memory she possibly could of those years on the far side of the
gulf, and convinced herself that even then she had loved Sidney.
Other love of a certainty she had not known. In standing face to
face with him after so long an interval, she recognised the
qualities which used to impress her, and appraised them as formerly
she could not. His features had gained in attractiveness; the
refinement which made them an index to his character was more
noticeable at the first glance, or perhaps she was better able to
distinguish it.
Pages:
553
554
555
556
557
558
559
560
561
562
563
564
565
566
567
568
569
570
571
572
573
574
575
576
577