She was never able to trace the changes her attitude had undergone, from the time when she believed herself to be the pampered Queen of Fortune, the crown of a good man’s love (and secretly, but nobly, worshipping some one else), to the time when she realized she was in fact just a mannequin for her lover’s imagination, and that he cared no more for the realities of her being, for the things she felt and desired, for the passions and dreams that might move her, than a child cares for the sawdust in its doll. Two souls in travail; one inspired by fresh hopes, the other, by fresh despairs. “Just like old times,” she thought sardonically. ‘Is it such a terrible prospect? I will take care of you—as long as you obey me. "I disbelieve the whole story you have told me. "But if it is thy will to take me from him," she continued, as soon as her emotion permitted her,—"if he must be left an orphan amid strangers, implant, I beseech thee, a mother's feelings in some other bosom, and raise up a friend, who shall be to him what I would have been. He could scarcely blame her. “Why can’t you tell people that you are what you are? Why all the secrecy?” She looked beyond the farmhouse. All seemed infected with Austin's terrors except Mrs.
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