Alas! how light a cause may move
Dissensions between hearts that love—
Hearts that the world in vain had tried,
And sorrow but more closely tied;
That stood the storm when waves were rough,
Yet in a sunny hour fell off,
Like ships that have gone down at sea
When heaven was all tranquillity."
Chapter XXXIV.
During the week that followed, the words that Dorothy had heard in her dream constantly recurred to her.
At first she fought against the feeling that seemed to be forced upon her.
She cried out to herself that Jessie must live; but with that thought always came the one that, if Jessie recovered, it would mean the downfall of all her own future happiness.
At last her growing love for Jack Garner conquered her. She yielded to it. It was like the intoxication of rare wine, of sweet, subtle perfume, until at last, in secret, she confessed to herself that she loved him. She thought of nothing but that she loved Jack with all the strength and fervor of her despairing soul, and the only barrier between them was—Jessie.
To make matters all the worse, the sick girl made a confidante of her, and would talk to her for long hours at a time over her approaching marriage—that is, if she should recover.
Every word she said was like the sharp thrust of a sword to Dorothy; but day by day Dorothy could not help but notice the terrible change that was taking place in Jessie Staples.
Every afternoon her couch was drawn to the bay-window. She liked to be propped up where she could look out into the sunlit garden, with its green foliage and bright-hued flowers; for it was in the garden that Jack could be seen, pacing up and down under the trees, smoking his afternoon cigar.
She would always call for Jack when she saw him, and when he came into the room she would hold out her arms to him with a strange, low cry.