These had been innocent
enough, and yet, to my imagination, stimulated by this discovery,
formed the basis of a dream of hope. I knew this, that however
sincerely she might have once supposed she loved Henley, his neglect,
cruelty, dissipation, had long ago driven all sentiment from her.
Before we met, her girlhood affection had been utterly crushed and
destroyed. Loyal, she was, and true to every tradition of her
womanhood. No audacity, no boldness, could penetrate her reserve, or
lower her self-respect. Before I knew who she was, when I had every
reason to doubt and to question, I was still restrained by an invisible
personality which kept me helpless. It was to guard his interest, not
her own, that she had accompanied me on this expedition, risking her
good name in the belief that he was unable to care for his own. What
would she do now? how would she feel toward me? What change would it
make in the friendly relationship between us? I longed to tell her,
and yet shrunk from the task. She could not fail to know how much I
cared; careful as I had been in word and action, yet a dozen times had
my eyes revealed the secret. I had seen her draw back from me, half
afraid, had her restrain me by a gesture, or a word. This could be
done no longer--we were free now, I to speak, she to listen, but I
could only guess the result.
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