Those last words
about burning papers and putting things away seemed to imply that the girl
still thought that she would be taken away from her present home on the
morrow. But what would come afterwards? The horror which the bride
expressed was, as Mrs. Carbuncle well knew, no mock feeling, no pretence
at antipathy. She tried to think of it and to realise what might, in
truth, be the girl's action and ultimate fate when she should find herself
in the power of this man whom she so hated. But had not other girls done
the same thing, and lived through it all, and become fat, indifferent, and
fond of the world? It is only the first step that signifies.
At any rate the thing must go on now; must go on whatever might be the
result to Lucinda or to Mrs. Carbuncle herself. Yes; it must go on. There
was, no doubt, very much of bitterness in the world for such as them, for
persons doomed by the necessities of their position to a continual
struggle. It always had been so and always would be so. But each bitter
cup must be drained in the hope that the next might be sweeter. Of course
the marriage must go on; though doubtless this cup was very bitter.
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