Dora did not gain strength so fast as her friends had hoped she would. Excitement, will-power, and courage had stood her in good stead at the start, but she had started too rapidly, and she had not the physical strength to carry her far at the same pace. She had unfortunately counted a little without herself. In this new existence, monotonous and almost without aim, there was not enough to satisfy her lofty character, her bright and energetic nature, which cried out for movement and an intellectual life. She still boasted of enjoying the pleasures of poverty and of preferring them to the others, but she was, in these days, chiefly brought in contact with the dulness and the bareness of poverty. Discouragement invaded her heart, she began to feel that she was vegetating and not living. Her courage was forsaking her. Later might come despair and a desire to have done with the world.
Weak health, grief, and solitude were undermining her. Her temper, always so equable formerly, so gay, was beginning to sour. The strangest contradictions manifested themselves in her behaviour, and that is a disquieting sign in a woman with a mind so well balanced as Dora's. She had refused her door to everyone, and yet she complained that people had forsaken her. She said she wanted to forget the past, and yet she eagerly clung to everything that could remind her of it.
She had promised Hobbs never to go near 50 Elm Avenue, and for a long time she kept her word. But one day she wanted to satisfy her curiosity, to see what sort of an appearance the house had, now that it was reoccupied. She came home in a state that distressed her faithful companion.
"It seems, Hobbs, as if everything were conspiring to overwhelm me. I have been to see the house."
"What! after your promise!"
"Yes, I know it is horrid of me, but I could not help it! Do you believe me when I tell you that I felt as if I recognised some of our own dining-room furniture through the window? And the curtains are exactly the same!"
"Oh, ma'am, it is just your fancy," said poor Hobbs, who feared to hear more. "At all events, you are cured of going there any more, I hope."
And there the matter ended. Lorimer had several times written to Dora, but, not having received any answer to his letters, he had not yet ventured to try and see her. He rather dreaded the first meeting.
"He too has forgotten me and given me up, you see, Hobbs," said Dora.
"Really, ma'am, you are not reasonable," replied Hobbs; "Mr. Lorimer has written several times to you. Have you answered his letters?"