" She stopped, a sob in her voice, and he
caught her in his arms again.
It was late indeed when he went away, walking swiftly, with a black
rebellion in his heart; and Diantha dragged herself to bed.
She was stunned, deadened, exhausted; torn with a desire to run after
him and give up--give up anything to hold his love. But something,
partly reason and partly pride, kept saying within her: "I have not
refused him; he has refused me!"
WHAT DIANTHA DID
CHAPTER XIII.
ALL THIS.
They laid before her conquering feet
The spoils of many lands;
Their crowns shone red upon her head
Their scepters in her hands.
She heard two murmuring at night,
Where rose-sweet shadows rest;
And coveted the blossom red
He laid upon her breast.
When Madam Weatherstone shook the plentiful dust of Orchardina from her
expensive shoes, and returned to adorn the more classic groves of
Philadelphia, Mrs. Thaddler assumed to hold undisputed sway as a social
leader.
The Social Leader she meant to be; and marshalled her forces to that
end. She Patronized here, and Donated there; revised her visiting list
with rigid exclusiveness; secured an Eminent Professor and a Noted
Writer as visitors, and gave entertainments of almost Roman
magnificence.
Her husband grew more and more restive under the rising tide of social
exactions in dress and deportment; and spent more and more time behind
his fast horses, or on the stock-ranch where he raised them.
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