She was never able to trace the changes her attitude had undergone, from the time when she believed herself to be the pampered Queen of Fortune, the crown of a good man’s love (and secretly, but nobly, worshipping some one else), to the time when she realized she was in fact just a mannequin for her lover’s imagination, and that he cared no more for the realities of her being, for the things she felt and desired, for the passions and dreams that might move her, than a child cares for the sawdust in its doll. She deserves what has befallen her. ‘To the contrary, I will have you to know something. " Mrs. He seemed to have expected them. She was never violent when angry: she became as calm and baffling as the sea in doldrums. I was the last on board. "Strange!" he continued, as if talking to himself. “MY DEAR GIRL,— “I am so sorry if we made asses of ourselves to-night. They were bathing in the stream.
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