Dexie stood where Hugh had left her for some minutes, listening to his
retreating footsteps as he disappeared up the attic stairs, then sank down
in the chair Hugh had occupied, and buried her face in her hands. There was
a tumult in her heart that required some deep thinking before she would
feel like herself again. Thoughts had arisen that had disquieted her. Hugh
had told her that her heart had not yet awakened; was it so? Why, then, was
she wearing Lancy's ring? She blushed as she pulled it hastily off, hiding
it on her chain like a guilty thing.
The story she had been reading, and which she had thought so overdrawn,
came into her mind; it had pleased her because she had thought it so
delightfully unreal. But had there not been passages in her own life quite
as romantic in their nature as that which seemed so interesting when read
out of a story-book.
Her heart had not yet awakened! How those words seemed to repeat themselves
over and over as she sat.
Had she awakened Hugh's heart only to disappoint him? Well, she had not
intended nor wished to do it; but he was very much in earnest, and she was
sorry.
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