"Oh no, dear," her mother would respond, with a smile; "you were so deluded, you did not know what you were doing."
"Deluded? I was mad!" Juliet would reply.
And madness indeed it now seemed, the insatiable vanity which demanded worldwide admiration and renown, her proud belief in her own power, her confidence that she could bend others to her will, her wilful determination to win her own way at any cost. She had been as the victim of an insane delusion, like such as imagine themselves kings or queens when they are but ordinary mortals, or who persuade themselves they are the possessors of thousands of pounds, when they have not as many pence. But Juliet knew that though she had been thus mad, it was a madness for which she was responsible. For she had known all the while what she was doing.
Each step had been deliberately taken in defiance of the protests of her better self. Regardless of every consideration which should have restrained her, she had striven to make of her life what she would, and, like all who so seek to save their lives, she had suffered loss. How great and bitter the loss her wrong-doing involved, Juliet had yet to learn.
She knew little of the outer world during the days which she passed in devoted attention to the invalid. The nurse had been dismissed shortly after the patient was pronounced out of danger, and Juliet now performed her duties, with some occasional help from Salome. Hannah had gone to take the change at the seaside which her mother's illness had delayed, and which it was desirable she should enjoy ere returning to her duties at the high school. The days passed quietly and uneventfully. Juliet seldom found time and inclination to look at a newspaper. She did not know that Algernon Chalcombe had been tried at the county assizes, found guilty, and sentenced to twelve months' imprisonment. She was not curious concerning his fate. She hated to think of him now, and would have been thankful if she could have banished his name and memory for ever from her mind.
Salome was aware of the fact, but she shrank from mentioning it to Juliet. Salome was trying hard to be patient with Juliet, and to make every allowance for her; but there were times when she was disposed to resent bitterly the folly of which Juliet had been guilty. It was certainly making life hard for Salome. She visited her district as assiduously as ever, neglected no religious duty, and attended every service of the church; but these engagements were made bitter to her now by her perception of a coolness in Mrs. Hayes' bearing towards her, since Juliet's elopement became the talk of the neighbourhood. She imagined, too, that Mr. Ainger must think less well of her in consequence, and the thought made her painfully nervous and self-conscious whenever she encountered the curate. A sense of injustice rankled in her mind, for surely no one had a right to blame her for what Juliet had done. She, most certainly, had never failed to administer reproof when occasion demanded it.
When Hannah returned home in September, and resumed her duties at the high school, she too found fresh cause to resent the way in which Juliet had disgraced them. She treated her young sister with marked coldness. Juliet did not so much mind that, but she felt painfully that she had brought a heavy shadow on the home life. Her mother came downstairs again and took her accustomed place, but she looked sadly aged and worn by all she had suffered. The old brightness had gone from her glance, and even her smiles seemed sad. Juliet could hardly look on her without a throb of keenest self-reproach.
As her mother no longer needed her constant attention, Juliet, thankful though she was to see her so much better, became conscious of a sore weight of depression, such as she had never known before. She hardly knew how to occupy herself. The days dragged heavily. Her life seemed to have lost all interest.
"Why do you not practise your singing, dear?" her mother suggested to her one day, as Juliet lounged about, unable to settle to anything.
A hot flush suddenly dyed Juliet's face.