Why was she left out,—forgotten? Why was there nothing, very much, in any of this, for her?
Yet underneath the doubting and accusing, something lived—stayed by—to rebuke it; rose up above it finally, and put it down, though with a thrust that hurt the heart in which the doubt was trampled.
Wait. Wait—with all your might!
Desire could do nothing very meekly; but she could even wait with all her might. She put her foot down with a will, at every step.
"I was put here to be Desire Ledwith," she said, relentlessly, to herself; "not Rosamond Holabird, nor even Dolly. Well, I suppose I can stay put, and be! If things would only let me be!"
But they will not. Things never do, Desire.
They are coming, now, upon you. Hard things,—and all at once.