Was it likely, was it possible, that he should be silent so
long if he still intended to make her his wife? No doubt he had come to
remember his debts, to remember his ambition, to think of his cousin's
wealth, and to think also of his cousin's beauty. What right had she ever
had to hope for such a position as that of his wife, she who had neither
money nor beauty, she who had nothing to give him in return for his name
and the shelter of his house beyond her mind and her heart? As she thought
of it all, she looked down upon her faded gray frock, and stood up that
she might glance at her features in the glass; and she saw how small she
was and insignificant, and reminded herself that all she had in the world
was a few pounds which she had saved and was still saving in order that
she might go to him with decent clothes upon her back. Was it reasonable
that she should expect it?
But why had he come to her and made her thus wretched? She could
acknowledge to herself that she had been foolish, vain, utterly ignorant
of her own value in venturing to hope; perhaps unmaidenly in allowing it
to be seen that she had hoped; but what was he in having first exalted her
before all her friends, and then abasing her so terribly and bringing her
to such utter shipwreck? From spoken or written reproaches she could of
course abstain.
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