Eugene Mallard now walked to his library, and flung himself down to think over the situation.
He felt grateful beyond words that matters were no worse. He was ashamed of the thought that for a moment had found lodgment in his brain against the wife whom he had wedded.
Then it came to him—his love for Ida, whom he knew now that he worshipped with all the passionate love of his heart. How different it was from the love he had borne Hildegarde Cramer!
He wondered that he had been so blind as not to have noticed his love for her sooner. He could scarcely wait until the day dawned, that he might go to her and tell her of the great love for her that was consuming his soul.
He said to himself that it was only her innate modesty that caused her to hold aloof from him of late, and to make her hesitate about giving him her answer.
He looked shudderingly backward over the past for the last time. Yes, he would urge her to give him his answer on the morrow. It never once occurred to him but that her answer would be "Yes."
[CHAPTER LIX.]
When Royal Ainsley shook himself free from old Joe's detaining grasp, his first impulse was to get as far away from the place as possible.