She dared not think what would be the result of her letter. Would
Wallace despise her for unsexing herself and almost proposing to him?
Would he, with his exaggerated ideas of honor still claim that it would
be unmanly to accept the love which she had so freely offered him?
Thoughts such as these occupied her waking hours up to the following
afternoon, when she expected a letter from Wallace, and was deeply
disappointed when none came.
Mr. and Mrs. Mencke had gone out to make some social calls, and Violet
was striving to divert her mind from the all-important theme, by going
over her music lesson for to-morrow. It was useless, however; there was
no music in her--everything was out of harmony, and her fingers refused
to do their work.
She then tried to read, but her mind was in such a chaotic state that
words had no meaning for her, and she finally grew so nervous that she
could do nothing but pace up and down the room.
The hours slowly dragged on, evening came, and she was upon the point of
going up stairs to bed, when a sudden ring at the door-bell made her
start with a feeling of mingled shame and joy.
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